


Human/Creature/Beast

by RAW_SYNTH3TICA



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Plot, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Porn, Bodily Fluids, Ejaculate, Emotional Manipulation, Emotionally Repressed, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time Bottoming, Graphic Torture, Handcuffs, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Knotting, M/M, Male Slash, Male Solo, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Medical-Kink, Mirror Universe, My First Work in This Fandom, Omega Verse, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Violence, There's a Plot Buried in the PORN!!!, What Was I Thinking?, Xenophilia, heat - Freeform, mentions of Tentacles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-29
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-25 01:35:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RAW_SYNTH3TICA/pseuds/RAW_SYNTH3TICA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only months after the entire human race is at Khan's feet, the said-humans have cleverly devised a way to repopulate their decimated numbers, except it is now at Kirk's disadvantage for he is alone & in heat.<br/>Final chapter soon to be added~!<br/>*Tags for Last 4 chapters*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Heat

**Author's Note:**

> ALL IS FICTIONAL & NOT MINE

In the back of his mind, Jim repeats to himself, ‘This can’t be happening! This can’t be Fucking Happening!’ 

He gulps in air as he staggers to the nearest wall, his skin crawling with electricity and blood feeling like heavy beads rolling down a string through his body, his pulse uneven and jumping at the ship’s every sound, especially to that of his own making. The black walls seemed as if to close in, until he felt as if he were recycling the same air, his sense of smell heightened considerably also in the past one-hundred-twenty hours of the one-hundred-sixty-eight hour duration of his ‘inhuman bodily functions’, being those mutated within his genes since the human Earth population dwindled between two-billion and two-point-seven-billion after the tyranny of Khan had reduced their numbers from the all too healthy seven-billion and three-billion on interstellar colonial missions. Yes, oddly enough, every male of the human species in the underground Starfleet were made to have Heats, as were the women, which borne human and half-human children from interspecies mingling, thusly appearing as if the Earth Humans have reverted back to beasts in Khan’s eyes. The dictator never the less had ‘fun’ with all sorts of these unfortunates whom crossed his path. 

Kirk took another breath, ignoring the heavy swell hanging painfully against his thighs, the cool walls did little to effect his burning skin, he felt as if he were expanding and imploding with each step on the inside while he made it his goal to find a pod not locked out or damaged. The phaser at this side was useless, the energy long ago converted to contact the side Starfleet still loyal to Earth, and Kirk’s current duty before being hit by the voting of his own hand: establish contact with the human colonies scattered in the universe, request assistance in overthrowing Khan and his superior race of humans. It all sounded rational as Spock would put it, and yet because Kirk was hit by a sudden Heat, he was useless to the Federation, completely MIA if Khan or any of the crew found him wandering the halls with stolen codes and maps of the remaining human colonies, he clutched the data-loaded PADD to his chest desperately wishing that Bones had given him extra vials of hormone suppressant. 

Being ever active in sex or up to the sport of it, Kirk was made an Alpha: the seeker of a mate rather than an Omega, the bearer of children - hence, his difficult ability to go Into heat, yet inside the battleship he stood dripping of the need to penetrate or be penetrated. Either had his swollen cock dripping heavily and twitching spasmodically inside his crew uniform. He did everything humanly possible to calm down, to keep his rigid muscles lax to allow him movement, his gray uniform scratched though it was a soft material, his lungs full though feeling as if he was not breathing enough or taking in oxygen which was too thin in the overpowering aroma he emitted from every sweating pore. The ship was void of Alphas, Kirk could taste the flat blandness in the air, steps approached and he pleaded to himself, ‘Don’t find me. Whoever you are please Don’t find me!’ 

Instinct shouted his muscles to run, his hands to fall into fists, his body to Stop begging and for the delicious Thing advancing to pass right by. In the sparsely lit hallways between battle stations and the life preserver shuttles, Kirk only had to run, insert the override codes and get the hell off the floating militarized space junk, but he was tired of running, a nice nap felt as good as it seemed. Thoughts of rolling around naked alongside a willing crewmate kicked his heat into overdrive, his limbs freezing to the spot against his protests, his heart jumping up into his throat and down into his stomach, his cock swelling again to the point of insanity as he felt himself leaking hot strands of precum to the floor, the side of his brain solely thinking Save Earth Plans shut down completely, the side where his newly-injected genes dictated pushed him to such lengths - Kirk began to whimper. 

At first a quiet wheezing at the back of his throat, then slightly audible gasping, finally to full-on sexual sobbing, anyone on the same deck level who heard through sound waves at that moment was most likely to have an erection like their own arm reaching into the air for anything to fuck. Tears burned through Kirk’s eyes, his body felt all too hollow, his body refusing to search out a potential mate since his limbs locked together in a tense heap of need and nature becoming two forces at war with another, a war greater than that waged between Khan’s species and Earth’s humans. Kirk’s lips lay open, red, swollen from being licked and sucked through his teeth, his hair beginning to cake against his skin, his uniform now completely saturated and his scent wrapped him in tantalizing screams of ‘Now! Fuck me Now! Somebody! Anybody! Anything! Please!’ 

And the footsteps halted before him, not knowing he was staring at the floor, Jim’s eyes roved towards the boots which encased long legs in black pants, leading to a strong upper torso and robust arms, finally upon pale skin, amidst everything he tried to see Kirk saw a potential mate standing before him, the scent mingling with his own putting his body into a further trance where he shakily whispered, “Please…- please-” 

The following voice shoots straight to his groin, sparking nerves on the way while his mind goes on aimlessly in the other man’s answer, “No.” 

With his body swimming in hormones, Kirk processes the answer, his body then takes flight to find another who would fulfill his animalistic demands, but already he is being thrown upon a shoulder and taken, he squirms crudely against the person carrying him to a place he would rather like to have a bed than a boring shuttle. The Shuttle! Starfleet! Khan! 

Against the shoulder and solid arms hauling him to possibly a solitary cell, mind made up, Kirk surges with the inhuman strength his heat has given him to force himself out of the grip, he powered with all his might forward to the shuttles just half a kilometer ahead, his legs pumped as did his arms as much as they could without tripping on one another. He fell into the door of a shuttle just as he slapped the open-button and smacked the emergency lock, not before that same particular Thing slid in through the closing door, locking them both inside the shuttle. Jim stared in horror at first, the emotion ebbing away to the grimace holding tight in his jaws, he hissed, the person before him had the same unreadable expression yet was betrayed by the cold twinkle in his eyes, the slight turn in his thin lips. Kirk then fell to his knees, his hands slipping from the console and legs unable to give him the strength to stare down the man who single-handedly enslaved the human race. 

Khan, though claiming to be superior, stood as an artificially intelligent human would: still, calm, in control, seemingly unaffected by Kirk’s need to be fucked, claimed, broken inside and out until the genes replacing the feral human’s own subsided to it’s completely human element. Khan felt the damning gaze of the former captain, blaming him solely for all the problems caused, which was a fact, Khan preferred to be the end of an inferior species than the father of an age of supreme beings marching about and waging triumph over the lesser beings, yet, his body worked strictly to it’s own accord. Training tirelessly, brain calculating and storing information, he was aware of his own self Evolving at the speed of months than the millions of years it took to have made homo sapiens out of the grunt-faced homo erectus, thus, his body learned on its own how to sniff out the genetically embedded gender roles of Alpha, Omega, Beta and their ten-percent Omicron children. 

The mere idea of humanity falling from the very pedestal they had built for themselves and being replaced by him, Khan both hated and Loved the concept that he will Never be subordinate to any other than the limits he had set for himself, and still his every fiber craved James Kirk. The man’s skin, the man’s every thought, his every attention, everything human and Himself he could give to feed the supremacy Khan had been genetically fitted and engineered with, and here he was standing for what seemed like hours not at all trying to alert the ship of the mutiny. He stepped forward, earning a growl from Kirk, Khan was helpless to his own newly evolved genetic makeup: claiming Jim, because he was also an Alpha. Without him understanding, Khan had become an alpha a year prior to the genes supplemented to Earth Humans going global, yet most of him remained the same: never fraternize among your inferior. 

This time he had never encountered among the population nor his own prisoner-crew an omega five days into heat and never having had the time to quell the overpowering hormones dripping sex by the bucket, their eyes burning so much unwanted yearning and barely-hidden disgust at the same time as Kirk had been doing since escaping the crew’s quarters under false pretense of going to medical bay. 

Unable to react, Kirk flinched as Khan’s hand came under his chin and lay across his neck, maybe curious of the color Kirk would turn if he were to be strangled mid-heat, he held the PADD closer to his chest and breathed evenly through the light grip only gracing his hot skin. He knew in the back of his mind the animal clawing up to the surface of his skin, wanting to be thrown to the floor and used until he was impossibly impregnated by an entire race, Kirk kept his stance defiant, unwilling to let Khan have his way though his body shuddered from the empty chaos which lay within him, needing an organ, a solid Object to replace the coiled hollowness inside himself. Khan’s growl turned his body into a quivering wet mess before he righted himself and used his spare hand to confirm the coordinates he had been punching in quietly while he had Khan distracted, he pressed the keys upon the console to sanction the coordinates, he only had but to wait for the shuttle to charge fully before deploying to the most densely populated Human colony in the universe, one which awaited patiently on standby for further instructions on liberating Earth’s human race.


	2. Origins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the sake of Having a Plot, here you are... :3

In a flash, Kirk’s teeth found the flesh of Khan’s wrist, he bit down as hard as he could, his teeth aching as he ventured as far as his jaws allowed into the supple skin, Khan only raised a dark brow, his body showing the very slightest of quakes from the sheer pleasure of being bitten, the fires of his despotic side fed upon the tenacity still within Jim. Kirk spat out the hand though feeling the strong urge to suck the entire organ into his throat, to somehow fill himself no matter Where he could get the relief. Saliva dripped over his lips, the seat of his pants and front soaked through with his bodily lubricant tethered him weakly to the floor in liquid strands, the very idea sickening him and alas giving his legs the strength to avoid Khan’s advance toward him. Kirk shied away from the hand again reaching to touch his face, he fell flat on his ass in a weak attempt to avoid the very thing he vowed himself to destroy, but the soothing heat of his enemy was oh so tempting and he lashed out again with his teeth still aching from their last effort at doing more damage than slightly creasing Khan’s skin. 

Aware of his all too sticky body, Kirk crawled into a corner hurriedly on his legs as he stood, seeming as if trying to disappear into the shuttle’s cranny, he gulped in the sparse oxygen before he sighed like a weak-willed liar rather than shouting authoritatively, “-don’t come near me-” 

His skin jumped with every inch Khan took in of his body, clearly observing him in his most vulnerable and probably most defensive state, he shook off the observing-lavishing glare of his captain, willing himself to resist as he always had, yet through the cloudy gaze that used to be his sight, he saw the watery form of Khan striding almost deliberately to him. Was it fear? Intimidation? Caution? All of which were none of the above, the captain felt nothing but utter loss of control, yet kept a scant shred for his own sanity, providing how he was unveiling a new kind of torture to Kirk, unavoidable, absolute, and predictably free of outer motives. Kirk clenched the PADD even closer to the point of breaking the screen, he cursed the shuttle quietly for not being able to charge as quickly as he had wanted, he swore at everything going wrong on his quickie steal-and-escape assignment he was the best fit for, and it did nothing in deterring Khan’s newly awakened interest in him. 

His voice sent sparks up Kirk’s spine, relighting extinguished flames and completely dulling his self-preservation to a whisper, Khan leaned over the former captain, taking his time nudging at the slick skin stinking of sweet pheromones, the ‘come hither’ scent paired with Kirk’s half-lidded blue eyes strikingly appearing as if being genetically enhanced, he thought to himself of the unblemished irises, ‘Beautifully colored. Almost true to the palette.’ 

Khan knew he should be twisting both of Kirk’s arms out of their sockets, interrogating the young man for information regarding the human rebellion, but they knew each other too well: Kirk would never give in and Khan would never give up, he knew by all of Starfleet’s knowledge of their organic biology that there was no use dealing with an animal in heat, nor a human in his case for their stubborn craving to breed. Their hours would be wasted away by Khan breaking all prisoner of war penal codes he had written himself, twisting Kirk into unnamable works of cruelty, maybe dismembering him while the former captain would only give him false starts and sarcastic retorts. They had been through this on a weekly basis, Kirk being a major key member to the Federation loyal to humanity’s survival, Khan was always the one directly questioning and coaxing out false information from Kirk, and Kirk was always the one receiving the many interrogation techniques which only toughened him up considerably instead of breaking under the unbearable pressure of Khan and his peers. 

Anything and everything, all the attraction he had stifled prior came tumbling back tenfold, and like the call of animal instinct, he followed as a blind man does to his every other senses, Khan’s tongue peered from between his lips while his hand took hold of Kirk’s trembling jaw, he licked him from smooth clavicle, through the shivering tendons leaking droplets of pheromones, along the young man’s close-shaved jaw and up to his brow. He turned the pain-broken face aside, and repeated, Kirk whimpered pitifully, almost thankfully for easing him nearer to obedient, his voice gasping out in response, his entire body undermining his unwillingness to become as sexually enticing as possible to the promising mate soothing his physical discomfort with a calming show of affection. A favor alphas would do for omegas or betas if either were locked into a feral mindset, all of which shocked Kirk back to consciousness, he threw his fist against Khan’s cradling hand, knocking the limb away as he slid out from the corner and bounced on his toes in the center of the shuttle. 

Kirk flung both fists, one after the other to Khan’s abdomen and one to the ribcage, he followed up with a head butt resulting in his daze, being thrown backwards by his own force only to regain his footing. Adrenaline ran wild pumping his veins an energy and alive with the hormones, but all he could do to not die for penetration was fight back as much as he was capable of, Khan was up to the challenge. Khan caught the next hard swing to his face, he flung Kirk’s hand away, again a knee aimed at his ribs being blocked, not for the next succession of blows Kirk threw, right fist connecting to chest, left to the right temple, two right uppercuts to the chin and alas both fists combined into a clenched knot and every ounce of strength Kirk had to knock against Khan’s left shoulder. Yet there he stood unfazed, his frame a little askew from all the insignificantly damaging blows dealt to him, Khan humored the heated alpha by shrugging his shoulders as if to brush off the hardly-registered pain bordering a mere half-hearted pinch to his skin, he ushered him in with a hand gesturing ‘Have another go.’ 

“I’m kicking your ass, captain!” Kirk huffed quietly as he tucked his chin down into his collarbone and floated inward only to jump back at the slightest turn of Khan’s lips. 

“Too awfully confident in your ability, Kirk?” Khan nodded diffidently, his extraterrestrial-inspired eyes neither blinking nor flicking to their surroundings as the human’s had, he stepped inward teasingly, not in the least falling into an defensive stance or cowering at the most flirtatious growl Kirk emitted unknowingly, “You look a bit bothered.” 

“I’m just as easily distracted,” Kirk rasped almost choking on the overpowering musk clouding his better judgment, he now more than ever fought his inner workings which screamed submission, he again quelled the urge to fall on his hands and knees for Khan, angered by his own body’s near-betrayal he growled and aimed his right fist with all the rage he had pent up for the tyrant before him, “No way am I losing This time!” 

In the split second it took for Kirk to launch himself at Khan, the captain recognized his own slight miscalculation leading to his current scuffle against possibly the most stubborn human he had ever the pleasure to break in: 

-20 Months Prior:- 

Their battle waged near the galactic outskirts to ensure Earth’s safety while Khan ran the USS Vengeance by means of humanoid crewmates and the USS Enterprise by Kirk alone. Banter bordering friendly and jovial ended in Kirk deploying the most advanced hydrogen bomb humanity had to offer, resulting in the USS Vengeance disappearing and Kirk piloting the USS Enterprise away from the explosion, approximately two hours prior to claiming victory, Kirk sat dead in his chair during a live conference streaming worldwide, Khan standing behind and making his own speech as he unceremoniously took Kirk’s snapped neck and lay the expired human aside, taking the captain’s seat and making himself comfortable in the process: 

“Civilians of Earth: I have been more than patient, more than understanding of your insufferable weakness to undermine my ability. My creator, my surrogate father Marcus should have introduced me properly as you may well understand my unquestionable role in Starfleet. I am not a menace, given my less than famous actions taken against the Federation, you are given the freedom of doubt to believe or discredit my conduct as a member of Starfleet. I am not human though my outer appearance may suggest our similar lineage. My species has been known to be ruthless, tireless, ageless, undying and loyal, yet here I am before you the most hated being on Earth, no longer begging to have my crew awakened from cryostasis - I will tell you myself the name so feared and loathed with good cause by all in this galaxy to the next: This is your captain of the USS Enterprise Khan Noonien Singh, so pleased to having finally conquered Earth after three-hundred years. Vengeance is mine alas.” 

Khan ended the conference, taking care of business with a brisk shower and a new change of clothes, yet unavoidably came back to the bridge to dispose of Kirk’s body, he checked the date between Kirk’s logged death, only less than ten minutes prior to the present. An emotional fascination akin to sadness, yet lacking the actual sorrow, moreover dissatisfied with Kirk’s too quick death, and maybe disappointed in himself for allowing such a interesting specimen go to waste. 

He hauled the torso up over his arms and transported the lifeless body of captain Kirk to medical bay, he took only a few moments to extract his blood from himself in separate vials, another few moments to separate the blood cells from the potent plasma cells and alas injecting straight through Kirk’s heart. He waited a few seconds for Kirk’s skin elasticity to return from the slight rigor mortis, in that time Khan cut away and stripped the then-dead captain of his garments until he lay completely naked, his opened blue eyes to gently close and the colorless pallor of his limbs to slowly assemble the red blood cells about the surface of his skin, regenerating the healthy pink of his face and breath to pump oxygen throughout his newly awakened self. He connected vital scans sync directly to the captain’s deck screen and to the PADD he decided to carry about while working the USS Enterprise alone. 

Khan hooked up the IV kits along with an ampoule of his clear plasma cells to the veins on Kirk’s left arm, carefully taping the needles in place, he took Kirk’s penis in hand and inserted the self-lubricated catheter about eleven-centimeters, he hiked up Kirk’s legs, collapsing a sturdy tube into a compact size in one hand and inserted bowel tubes until thirty-centimeters disappeared inside the unconscious human, finishing off the task with a few CCs of muscle relaxant, he left Kirk to dream a the few peaceful hours he had of Earth before he quelled the hated life forms where they stood polluting the planet of deception and stupidity. Khan allowed himself to muse lightly, innocently of how beautiful Kirk really was while he checked the ship’s functionality: skin tanned to a pleasing shade, his face perfectly symmetrical as were his nearly flawless body ratio which he had calculated already by the mere memory: 1:2.3:0.75: and muscular legs still splayed up on the way down. Stunning was Khan’s opinion. 

He paced back to the bridge, his mind still running plans and probabilities on the same track as he seated himself in the captain’s chair, pulling up contacts and deciding to communicate privately with both the Federation and the Empire of the terms of Earth’s untimely surrender. The Federation was reluctant to agreeing, moreover being the very start of shouting matches amongst themselves found himself exponentially distracted by the PADD as he sat in the captain’s seat on deck, shuffling about Kirk’s steadily recovering vital stats, he adjusted, readjusted and gave final touches to the room temperature controls and to dim the harsh lighting, alas finishing his tinkering by adding a fifteen-percent humidity to the oxygen to ease Kirk’s ragged breathing. The rest of the evening was merely a show of conquest as he bartered for Kirk’s life for the release of Khan’s own crewmates. Upon agreeing to release the group from cryostasis, Marcus jumped off the roof after excusing himself from the parlay meeting upon Khan’s request, all the while the Earth held its breath for the slaughter to begin. 

The terms of surrender were fairly simple: Laws would mimic that of Pallus Theta - ‘obey or pay’ rules, all but those of human descent of up to three generations were to transfer back to their home planets, economy and leadership were to remain unchanged. Upon reaching agreement from both the Federation and the Empire, Khan set course for Earth and took one final glance at Kirk before making the Tiniest adjustments of personally going back to medical bay and strapping in his only passenger to avoid warp-speed’s backlash. Within Starfleet landing space, Khan evened out the landing himself, and auto piloting the Enterprise to fully touch down before he abandoned the captain’s seat once more to find himself in medical bay dressing Kirk in a new suit, he hauled up the sleeping body again and strode to his soon-to-be party bathed in outrage and maybe a few assassination attempts or two. 

The remaining human members of Starfleet greeted him, hailing him their ruler, to which Khan recalled his own crew suspended in cryostasis, he handed off Kirk to a few medical students and said, “A nation so easily conquered deserves a leader just as weak. I respectfully decline your pathetic titles. Give me my family.” 

He spent the next few hours disconnecting the explosives from seventy-two of the cryogenic pods, a few interruptions were made on Starfleet’s behalf, which Khan thoroughly entertained by personally and swiftly ending each assassin where they stood. Anger rolled throughout his system as much as each satisfying crack of their limbs in his hands momentarily allayed his resentment, he wished to live solely for burning out the disappointingly Easy defeat of Marcus and the suicide of all those who knowingly conspired and consented to exploiting Khan’s impressively deep attachment to his crew, yet he continued onward until all seventy-two of his faction had awoken. Each looked at him as if they were just days ago coasting the Romulan-Federation border on the verge of destroying the planet. Had it not been for Khan’s pride, even strangers of his own species would have survived before being hailed by their leader Praetor Shinzon of the warbird Scimitar, their talk was brief captain to captain, unkind and unwelcoming in the most of its extent, resulting in the young Reman paralyzing Khan psychokinetically and deploying thalaron ions into the ship. More than eighty-percent of Khan’s species had died twisted and contorted, their bodies unable to cope with the substance beamed unto their ship’s air ducts, apparently both truth and surrender were nonnegotiable forms of entertainment to Praetor Shinzon. 

Khan remembered the very few minutes he spent conscious aboard his vessel, rerouting the thalaron to their reactor and sealing off the rest of the survivors into airtight isolation cells, he was never more alarmed in his life than the hour he spent scouring his ship for his crew, his once-resilient skin cracked from thalaron contact, his health declined rapidly as his body slowly chewed away itself inside out and became the inorganic material found inside Remus’ mines. The activity of his cranial sensory waited yet was unable to die, he sat on deck, overlooking space slowly drifting past, the stars breathing and burning their gaseous fires. Alas being hailed by a Federation Captain, Khan stayed where he was seated, incapable of moving; the captain came aboard, at first searching for signs of life, but alas praising the advanced weaponry stored and mounted throughout the exceptionally-equipped vessel. Khan’s officers and mechanics were questioned of the creator of the battleship Shiva Ra-III, all pointed to their captain suspended beyond all hope of living, a few of the Shiva Ra’s crew especially his chief medic Doctor Mana volunteered willingly to clone their captain or at least recover his preserved genetic material still lodged within the inorganic soil. 

The process was painstaking, yet thorough with such successful results; Khan was cloned at first as human, but never made it into the second trimester while being carried by a human woman. The next few trials resulted in the same outcome, alas deciding upon injecting his purified DNA ineffectively into a Vulcan host, then a Romulan, alas to those of the distant genus, no female nor agamogenic species could conceive the artificial embryo properly or cope with the mild poisoning emitted by the defensive fetus. Ten years passed before a major breakthrough developed: injecting the embryo into an artificial womb to reach maturity and finally inject the genetic material upon the ‘womb’s ovulation cycle’. Within the ten years it took to ‘conceive’ the late captain Khan, technology took another leap into the future: all seventy-two of Khan’s crew had been given the same treatment, their human captors fearing of being unable to control the otherworldly figures for all the power and anger hidden within their charming brilliance, they were each to give genetic samples and killed as they slept heavily sedated. All credit of Doctor Mana and his research on genetic convolution and evolution had since then been ‘lost’. 

Another ten years in the artificial womb tolled yet a further advancement in technology, the re-engineered-resurrected crewmates of Shiva Ra-III were given a cocktail of extraterrestrial traits over the very human-based structure they were first given, yet so also had the human hungered for Youth, which gave Starfleet the Perfect excuse to use the semi-vegetative wombs as test subjects once more. Through stem cells taken from the female crewmates’ own body, the cure for cancer was created as were the entire suspended crews’ muscular regeneration process, their immune system able to overcome even the most deadly of infections, cancers and diseases. Outselling the most pretentious of buyers prompted ever More research and experiments, none ever guessing that tampering with the Shiva Ra’s crew would only make them more impervious to what a true human was vulnerable against. Khan forgone reminiscing and seething over the past, he looked the present at what he had in store for the traitors whom broken their own rules, lost at their own game, and awaited the inevitable. 

-19 Months Prior:- 

There was also the matter of the defeated captain Kirk. Khan had the young captain’s rank removed, the titles over claiming the USS Enterprise rescinded, alas deciding to demote him to First Officer under his own crewmate Ve’da’s command where he could watch over the human more closely. Ve’da reported to him of Kirk’s willing ineptitude towards his superior officers, Khan only trusted in his own judgment to distort and argue the insubordination out of Kirk, so he began watching more vigilantly until one tiny action involving a simulated battle incited punishment. The lightness in Khan’s steps as he strode to the isolation chambers felt strangely pleasant as if he were strolling along the ballistics sector, especially in the slightest eager to see the young captain again, Khan reached the cell and allowed himself in without introduction to the peacefully lounging human. 

“You have publicly disobeyed me again, First Officer Kirk,” Khan said in the most measured and punctuated tone he had used since personally challenging the Federation to in-space warfare, whom accepted by sending in their most naïve captain available: James Tiberius Kirk. 

“Murdering a budding civilization of say: One billion - deserves a fighting chance at evolving, huh?” Kirk answered, rocking his locked ankles atop the single table inside the isolation cell used for interrogation, the area well-lit by LED tubes and the former captain’s undaunted grin, “Under Federation codes: Mass Genocide is illegal.” 

Khan paced about, hands gently clasped behind his back, each finger massaging the opposite hands’ knuckles, almost as if to smile of a freshly pummeled Starfleet official, and though he hated to take out his pent anger out on the young man, he looked down upon insubordination as a problem needing first-priority correction, every officer whom ran a tight ship knew as much. All but Kirk bowed down to his dominion, unneeded, unaided the false praises and compliments rained down on him for ‘skillfully’ defeating Earth’s last hope, their last bid at maintaining the poisonous culture they protected so fiercely, going so far as to match his impeccable might against the recklessness of a Child. Victory, what was victory without the spoils? 

“It’s a wonder how you simple humans have put yourself at the top of the food chain for the past million years before creating Me to smother you secondary to the amoeba,” Khan paced around the table back to Kirk’s line of vision, he leaned over the table while Kirk rose to his feet, the tyrant alas felt a little more satisfied now that he commanded the human’s attention and fragile emotions, “The human species is hardly following Darwinism as we speak adding a new stage to his theory: ‘De-Evolution of the Ineffectual’.” 

“And that Justifies killing off a species which know nothing more-” Kirk flew across the room after being backhanded soundly across his cheek, blood vessels swelled instantly inside his cheek as he lay dazed in a crumbled mess against the furthest wall, Khan kneeled and took him by the left wrist gently, he massaged Kirk’s knuckles before popping two out of their joints. 

“ ‘Those which are weaker fall to the that which is stronger-,” he continued at a whisper to the young man’s ear above all the pained shouting, he then agonizingly pulled out two more as Kirk began tugging at the solid grip on his wrist, “-the unlearned to the wise-” 

Khan pushed the fingers backwards, watching the blue eyes flash angrily to his adoring gaze, he licked his lips and pushed Kirk’s thumb out of its socket, the loud pop and squish reverberating along with Kirk’s strained gasping. 

“-and alas those whom are of mediocre genetic condition will be Crushed-” Khan’s hands ventured slowly up Kirk’s arm to his elbow, which his thumb circled calmly only to suddenly grab hold of Kirk’s shoulder and upper arm, his lips twisted wickedly and he yanked both apart bone from socket, “-by the untouchable quality.” 

Kirk’s voice traveled outside the isolation chamber, the aftershocks of pain throbbing inside his left arm, he defensively gripped the limb to himself as he growled though his grit teeth, “Fuck you!” 

“By all right, in many ways so,” Khan worded, his voice heady by the smell of Kirk’s fear-tinged courage, he hauled the former captain up by his injured arm and pushed him gently down into the vacant seat, his long pale fingers dancing along Kirk’s shoulder and gripping the dislocated arm by the indenture in his shoulder, “I am alpha and omega; something no one else can Ever lay claim to.” 

“You are only limited by Who you are, not What you’re made of,” Kirk answered clearly, he glanced back to his tormentor, feigning against the fingers squeezing his shoulders and straining his ligaments apart, “-Captain.” 

“Under my own order:-” Khan slicked back his dark hair, his hands working the wrinkles out of his black suit, he said glancing down at Kirk, “-Xenocide is a necessary.” 

“You are dismissed, First Officer Kirk,” he ordered as he pressed in key codes into the cell’s unit, he walked through the opened threshold not once sparing Kirk a glance, Kirk gratefully exhaled and pulled himself up wearily of his injuries. 

Kirk rode his motorcycle to his apartment on autopilot after finding out the hard way he had absolutely no means of steering his vehicle, he dismounted inside Starfleet headquarters’ lift and proceeded to again autopilot his transportation carefully into his provided apartment after arriving at his floor. Inside the room was sparsely decorated, the only bit of personality shown was his graduation picture on the single colorless couch facing his entertainment center, he threw his backpack and armored jacket upon the still-rumpled sheets of his bed and called up his own band of radicals on speed dial. Spock picked up on the half of the first ring, his voice unmistakable as a programmed humanoid. 

“Spock, it’s Jim. Yeah, he’s roughed me up a bit, nothing -ow!-” Kirk twisted and pushed in his shoulder, he then gripped the phone over his right shoulder, jogging to the kitchen and leaning his left arm gently into the freezer, “-serious. Listen, same place, same time, I’ve got an idea.” 

The walk was brisk through London’s part of the day, citizens and travelers were either working or teeming the many universities erected in towering spires, Kirk moreover jogged through the slightly bare traffic, dodging a car or two as he flicked under the surveillance cameras and Khan’s city-ears through the concrete metropolis, nearly the same way Khan had when using the alias ‘John Harrison’. He became a face of no Starfleet rank, a shadow without a features, he became the obsolete courage wrung out by Khan’s rule, almost alike. 

Kirk seemed to remember his victory over Khan, streaming his speech worldwide to Earth and ‘blacking out’. Kirk arrived at the designated area, the four-week anniversary video of Khan’s victory playing over the screens everywhere he looked; the climatic scenes taken from an orbiting satellite showing the USS Vengeance sucking itself into a black hole not before a tiny ray of light shoots into warp speed behind the escaping USS Enterprise. He turned away, taking ancient stairs down through a tunnel and waited inside a filthy terminal in the underground for his former crewmates to arrive, none too soon came the telltale rumble of a distant bullet train slowing to a squeaky halt, the doors slid open to reveal Spock, Bones and Hikaru standing amongst a small crew of armed men and women. 

Kirk nodded as he entered, each greeting him with his former title, “Captain.” 

“At ease,” he took his seat next to Spock as Bones ran a tricorder over his body, he shrugged off the device, “Relax, Bones.” 

“Your survival is imperative, captain, it is wise to allow Bones to run a full vital scan,” Spock turned towards his officer in command, easing Kirk’s arm out of the jacket sleeve and rolling the shirt material up, “The bruising on your shoulder appears very severe and out of average proportion, so does the cyst anomaly on your cheek.” 

“It’s just a little discoloration, nothing to worry about, Spock,” Kirk hissed as he peeled off the cold compression patches on his wrist and shoulder, Bones poked at his swelled cheek and was swatted away, “For the last time, Bones. Please!” 

“Sorry to say, Kirk, but mild facial lacerations do not spit blood,” Bones somberly assessed, leaning over the second seat and kneeling aside Kirk, “I’m guessing, if I am correct, that you have suffered very acute head trauma without treatment about twelve hours ago. Your dear captain might have damaged your facial structure.” 

“Okay, fine. No interruptions. Understood, Bones?” Kirk pointed his good finger at Bones as he continued his conversation with Spock on the brainchild born a few minutes before, “Human heats. I know, I’m a genius.” 

Spock’s nose unwittingly wrinkled and Bones’ head shot up from the tricorder, anyone who heard thought it was just a themed-sex kink their former captain was in the phase of, if the man ever got bored of creative sex - it was surely the end of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't mean to tease, but please don't hate me because there's not much smut, the third & Final chapter will have all of That stuff smothered in all my amateur Trekkie <3 ~!
> 
> Okay, okay, i’m Very embarrassed to say that the only Star Trek film I own is ‘Nemesis’, not the ones’ from way back in the 70’s or the newest films, they might be more interesting in concept with being a budding Trekkie (I go full bird the day i only write Trek-fics), but I respect the culture since science fiction has always been a constant theme I’ve endlessly enjoyed, & i respect All writers whom take it upon themselves to bring such amazing fiction to life~


	3. Theory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because my job suddenly got super busy, i uploaded since i didn't know when i would be able to come back to finish this fic

“For the record, kid:-” Bones quickly pulled out Kirk’s index finger, gave a slight twist and allowed the bone to settle back into it’s joint, Kirk made a fist with his left hand after cursing under his breath, the doctor just ran the tricorder once more over Kirk’s arm from shoulder to fingertip, “I’d prescribe you a bubble suit if there ever was one. All damage is merely superficial, nothing serious internally.” 

“With the hell I go through, we’ll need a rabbit foot holding a four leafed clover,” Kirk obediently sat atop a gurney while Bones scanned his vitals for rogue blood clots in his cheek, he suffered the deep-tissue prodding on his bruise while the doctor checked for skull fractures on his cheekbones and jaw, he hissed moreover for his bad predicament, “Luck isn’t our strong suit.” 

“That bitch Lady Luck smiled on you today,” Bones commented offhandedly, taking a few notes and ignoring all the bustle about them in the dim underground city terminal alit with computer monitors and wires blazing information to one server to the next, a small army of Kirk’s former crew bustling about alongside their captain. 

“Any old dame who never begs for diamonds is the girl for me,” Kirk chuckled as Bones slapped him in the formerly-injured shoulder and tossed him his shirt, just then, Spock headed their way in what appeared to be Bones’ own dark gray long sleeve free of Starfleet’s insignias. 

“Referring to the events of beneficial chance - it bears no semblance to the gender nor personification of this ‘lady’, and further still; the allure of pure carbon stones given as gifts to the female sex remains allusive, captain,” Spock’s voice was as per usual free of implying wit, Kirk could hardly hold back the smile he tried to hide as he pulled his shirt back on at Spock’s attempt at humor or something worth noting, “Our joint occupations rely heavily on your existence and attention as the weight of the situation was hinted previously.” 

“Music cue for the Spock-version of saving the world,” Kirk answered to the pointed ‘glare’ of his former first officer. 

Bones stood up and nodded to both of his colleagues with the ‘you know you got yourself into shit’ smirk, “I’ll get the bubble suits.” 

“If the task were mine as you ask: we come to terms with Khan’s ambition, then we assess his weak points in both his private life and his social apathy down to the pure science,” Spock showed no urgency, but counting by how he punctuated his words and slightly sped up his speech, Kirk knew his first officer was completely in no logical verdict for taking down Khan, “I nearly am certain clues are to be brought to our attention on all fronts.” 

“That’s it? We put him through high school ‘angst’ pains and punt him off our planet,” Kirk threw his hands up in the exaggerated gesture which always makes Spock want to scream bloody murder for his carelessness, “Does my trusty Vulcan have a plan B going once? Going twice?” 

“Again, while your premature interruptions are rude and pointless, we have a valid lead as to where to begin, captain,” Spock pacified Kirk’s dawdling along the seemingly ‘fun’ interrogations their captain Khan put the human through, he took his PADD and began listing his details taken by his own research combined with their ensign Pavel, “Very little is known about our acclaimed conqueror except that he divides his time between Ballistics Sector and the Laboratories of Natural Science. He has no social life which is currently available, apparently no private life either to speak of.” 

“Ballistics combined with Natural Science-” Kirk’s mind instantly snapped at attention, he knew by studying Earth’s history that weapons with devastating power were made with virtually anything, ranging from the most basic virus to the most advanced radiation projectile, humanity was never one to resolve issues peacefully until the appearance of Vulcans and otherworldly neighbors whom became a part of Earth. Still, Kirk was nervous of predicting Khan’s objective and what the tyrant was capable of if they ever waited long enough to see him achieve them, “He can’t be planning to build biochemical demolition compounds; those kinds of scientific endeavors were banned centuries ago. Khan is capable, but he-” 

Kirk shut his mouth as soon as he laid eyes on Pavel whom seemed to be afraid to interrupt, he whispered little more than above the background noise of the lively terminal in his heavy Serbian accent, “Permission to speak, sir?” 

Kirk nodded a ‘proceed’ to his officer whom afterwards said, “Judging by our data, Khan has an unmarked ship kept in storage about nineteen kilometers away by rail.” 

“Your findings are in our consideration, ensign,” Spock said to the young man, he then added to break the ominous mood with sincerity, “Thank you, Pavel.” 

With Pavel breaking into a grin and scampering off to continue his duties as media Damage Control, Kirk glanced away to align the new facts which coincided with the data, all pointed to one thing: complete Human annihilation. Either it would be by doing exactly as his own ancestors had done to one another in the past or more dastardly something Khan had thought up by previous experience, Kirk would rather not guess, yet he had his own theories which got worse and worse the more he thought to estimate. Spock pulled up more information on the PADD. 

“Quantity in the current Human population has not been changed since Khan’s victory over Earth,” Spock announced to Kirk’s awareness, again sliding through several detailed maps lighting up his Vulcan features, “His single-handed death toll lies in the hundreds currently. Several hundred thousand are still currently hospitalized without death in the time he attempted to fell headquarters.” 

“Wrong, Spock. Have you heard how much he hates Humans? Us as a whole? Collectively every two-legged target without exotic-sounding species?” Kirk slid off the gurney as he shot his first officer a grimace, he walked to Bones’ medical kit and swallowed two gel caps before trudging about the underground terminal, “Whose side are you on anyway?” 

“Strictly theoretical,” Spock answered in his moderate voice as he followed his captain, “Which also does Not mean he intends to eradicate the entire Earth population. It’s simply-” 

“Illogical? Don’t be so Vulcan, Spock,” Kirk smirked over his shoulder to Spock and stopped before the projector screen, he took from his pocket a micro-memory disk and pressed the magnetic side unto the screen, he quickly moved his fingers over the glass screen and rearranged files until there lay one coherent decrypted document, “Khan’s specialty is ‘inferior pest-control’. Archives and cryptography 101 on the Vengeance’s backup drive, it reads like a Doomsday How-To manual. The last entry of the esteemed Doctor Mana is the breaker for us. A complete godhead formula as Swammerdam might agree.” 

Spock’s eyes ran over the information, passing from graphs to charts, comprehensive diagrams and ballistics grids, nearly three dozen unique blueprints for warships and separate weaponry outlines, all the way down to planets which mine deadly products in place for the usual uranium, mercury and coal. The ships were too obviously not Starfleet issue, they had an ‘other’-quality to them, sleek bodies hiding the deadly weapons they accommodated, their capabilities ranging from simple single-seated pilots to motherships housing over one-million armed military bodies, both with the same ability to level equally opposing fleets and planets. Suddenly, all of Kirk’s fears made so much sense that Spock quietly felt apprehension in acknowledging them, the last thing he knew was of how he did not have the courage to face another planet dying when he was given the warning beforehand. A sweep of Kirk’s hand cleared off the screen, they stood before a diagram of scanned pages torn and burned at the edges, Spock peered closer. 

“ ‘De-Evolution of the Ineffectual - Alpha and Omega - and laying claim to’,” Kirk read off the erratic script at once remembering Khan using nearly the same passage, he used both his index fingers to touch the corners of the page, he drew out his fingers and enlarged the scant images, “Recognize it, Spock?” 

“Similar wording and slightly vague in his sense of a clear meaning,” Spock peered into each shredded fragment which was haphazardly pieced back together and photographed in the order which was missing, the only coherent writings were the ones’ Kirk read off a while ago, he recalled once scanning over the subject as he came across it as a Vulcan child, recognition hit him like a phaser pulse while he tallied up a name Starfleet had been trying to scratch out from history, “Doctor Mana’s theory from the tenth year of the twenty-second century. How could Khan have known such an ancient and incongruous phrase?” 

“I don’t know,” Kirk answered, his rigid stature all the more stiff in his seeming bristling temper, he shook off the anger and with a flick of his wrist and index finger on the projector screen, the entire surface changed to a metal tablet etched clean through via laser, the twisted language displaying a grid made up of more tiny pictures reminiscent to hieroglyphs, Kirk zoomed in with his fingers on a spot highlighted for their suspicious location at the very bottom and seemingly rewritten by hand, “There was a small photo of pictographs encrypted in the same file as Doctor Mana’s theory. Think you’re able to translate it?” 

“Objective offense taken if my inability was readily assumed otherwise, captain,” Spock selected the few pictographs by hand and copied them to his PADD, he cleared away the rest of the photo on the projector and aligned each pictograph according to how much he understood of their meaning, he said to Kirk after much deliberation upon the vast glass screen, “At first glance, the order is random, placement suggests a serendipitous knowledge Doctor Mana attempted to keep from other eyes than his own, indicated by the slight tilt in his script; Doctor Mana was also left-handed and seemingly double tasking with his right. Behind each character is a mixture of at least between one and four grammatical terms in an ancient language resembling begotten roots of dead Quanta Lingua Franca - extinct for at least after their star went supernova twice and nearly destroyed their entire solar system. And, yes, you are forgiven for the disruption which could not wait until the middle of my explanation.” 

“You lost me between random and grammar,” Kirk blinked away the blue lights from his retinas, he rubbed a hand over his eyes and asked, “Are you telling me either Khan studied the dead frenum tongue or is older than the three hundred years he was in cryostasis?” 

“Presumably, the language which Doctor Mana utilizes is likely from the more advanced caste of dead Quanta Lingua Franca,” Spock explained as he set his PADD aside and folded his hands to his back, “There is little known of the heritage of Khan’s crew, the only lead we now have of truly guessing his intentions meant for Earth is to attempt at understanding What he is.” 

“Khan isn’t human,” Kirk pointed out as he again recalled his many but momentary brushes with his captain, “He keeps referring to himself as an ‘other’, not as in the branch From or Of ‘being human’ before in general context- he is Anything but human.” 

“Captain, if I may, I might have a secondary guess as to the ship Khan was the last to command than the Vengeance,” Spock turned to his former captain, addressing the most important things at hand, “The logs preserved there are of great importance.” 

“Hikaru, take us there,” Kirk shrugged into his jacket and pocketed an adapter port with Spock on his heels, he boarded the bullet train and half growled to Sulu’s ‘aye, sir’, “Let’s stick it to that son of a bitch.” 

\---

Jim landed one of the best hits he was ever capable of in that moment his captain stilled, Khan recomposed himself by brushing his black strands correctly into place, his expression showing the slightest hint of what Kirk would mistake as an incriminatory glare, Khan’s eyes narrowing only until the thinnest steely gray rings reached through the haze of thick pheromones wafting about in the shuttle as if it were smoke. The shuttle hummed to life, and lurched forward in its initial takeoff into the silent darkness surrounding protectively - leaving Khan’s warship Ares Convoy unmanned, completely floating in the same soundless sea wrapping the tiny explorer pod. Thankfully, the warship Ares Convoy blares no alert of the escaped shuttle, the ship only disappears peacefully into the stars as the shuttle gave the ‘all clear’ signal to the pilot. Jim glanced up from the floor he was laying against upon his stomach, the cool floor nearly burning his hot skin and feeling as if it were sizzling over his bones, Kirk hauled himself up unto his arms, his legs refusing to fold beneath his weight, they instead spread at the knee to his horror. 

He clasped his legs shut only to have a knee wedged between his thighs and a solid grip holding his left wrist high above his head, Kirk glanced back to Khan, his growl becoming a distressed sob as the tongue again laved his skin from shoulder to the heated tip of his ear, soothing his rigid tendons and perspiring skin. Sensations both familiar and amplified rolled up his spine in waves, Khan took another taste, his tongue dipping along Kirk’s throat and twining his fingers into the human’s hands, their fingers at first splayed against each other until Kirk’s fingers clenched into Khan’s hand. The lines between anger and anticipation built behind Kirk’s shame leaking against Khan’s thigh and knee, he clawed away at the floor with his right hand in an attempt to flee or get loose, anything to keep from having his ass bump against the thigh pressing at his sensitive parts, his legs fared off no better at trying to squirm or propel his strength-sapped body forward. Yet his nerves rooted him to the spot beneath Khan, his nerves firing off hot pulses to his wet lips, to his swollen nipples, along the veins and skin of his throbbing cock, along the fleshy divide and disturbingly inside the walls of his contracting ass, he felt himself again dribble bodily lubricants. 

He leaked all the more from all ends, his eyes burning from the lights and wet to his chin, his lips overflowing saliva from his watering mouth, he laid his face against the warm chest and panted quietly, his own ribcage tight with tense muscles and legs locked at the knees against each other, his spine rigidly arched upwards into Khan’s abdomen. Warmth bordering cool whispered along the short hairs of Kirk’s neck, slightly turning the mist on his skin icy in contrast, he ground his forehead into the floor, denying himself his nature to submit, to push his ass into the air against Khan’s groin, though his skin ached for stronger contact, his muscles thrummed from Yearning for every touch he forced himself not to beg for. Yet the sounds forced itself out of Kirk’s panting mouth, he shut his teeth together, quelling the urge to look up into Khan’s eyes and confirm all his worse fears: he unwittingly attracted a mate. Khan’s warm hand came to rest gently on his chin, tracing the tense tendons and skin perspiring the most delicious scent ever to be created, Kirk’s sigh escaped almost instantly and he opened his eyes, unable to keep them closed any second longer. 

Khan leaned over him, steel-grey irises framing black lust-hazed pupils, dark brows neutrally motionless save for a slight twitch in the right, pale lips sporting a shine from saliva, Kirk felt himself lurch forward as if to grind himself into the floor, only dislodging himself from Khan’s gentle grip. Kirk threw himself into a wall, his body whipping around on his knees, nearly expecting to find Khan pressed up behind him, he saw his captain rising gracefully from his knees, his weight rolling unto the balls of his toes as he sat on his hunches, his perfect eyes raking sinfully over Kirk’s half defenseless form. Kirk gulped half in fear - half in nervous humiliation, the contact of Khan’s breath ghosting over his flesh though he sat only two meters away, clutching at the metal and feeling his inner muscles flutter at the shuttle’s vibrations, he was losing himself and he knew it. 

It was only a matter of time before the artificial genes took over, until then, Kirk hardened his gaze and snapped like an agitated animal, his words no more than half a handful lest his voice taper away to embarrassing mewls, “Keep away, Khan!” 

Khan tilted his chin up in a haughty display, his spine visibly shivering to the beautiful rumpled human trying to give a seductive threat, his own voice was clear, the deep baritone in his syllables playing along and all the same leading on an enticing challenge, “Give me a reason, Kirk.” 

“-Or I’ll-!” Kirk’s temper got beat out by his need to strip down and cool himself, yet he decided against making this in the least Easy for his captor, he gulped overcome as he hooked a finger over the neck of his shirt and pulled slightly to ease the tightness in his neck, he weakly whimpered, “-or I’ll-” 

“Or you’ll What?” Khan licked his plush lips and suddenly Kirk was writhing in madness against the wall, his mind stunned and caught between avoiding and craving all the attention Khan was sure to offer, he asked calmly low, expecting another act of defiance, “Or you’ll what, Kirk?” 

Kirk felt as if he were running so far, so fast for so long that he could hardly catch his breath, his lungs were about to explode telling by the cold soreness in his throat, he gave up trying to develop a plan, he instead huffed seriously if his voice did not pitch into a moan at the end, “You’ll regret invading Earth.” 

“Ah?” Khan’s eyes lit up with interest, he rose up to his full height, displaying the intimidating bulge in his groin, he took from behind his back an object unclear to Kirk, he put the items in full view of the dazed human, displaying a pair of Teflon-coated cuffs, “The pleasure is all mine.” 

\---

The train arrived shortly after Kirk was done flexing his arm to mobility, the nerve-dulling drug finally working on untangling his mixed pain signals, he clicked on a light in his left hand to the musty tunnel which felt like the ass of Starfleet’s escape expressway, he coughed from the undisturbed dust which flew into his mouth soon after he took his first step and breath outside of the bullet train. Spock followed as did Sulu, one handing Kirk a dust mask and the other pushing into his right hand a single-use oxygen inhaler; Spock explained afterwards of the high carbon dioxide content in the air, they each pushed onward to a once-cemented door blown open maybe from the time Earth was in a great panic for Khan’s victory over them. Just a kilometer away from the men stood the most ghastly thing to ever grace Starfleet’s ship port. To the naked eye, the ship was a pile of floating ore and alien mineral, it was hardly sleek or refined as the Enterprise, barely passing in the beauty pageant against a Romulan warship or speed of the Reman warbird, Kirk thought the ship looked haunted and plain uninhabitable, a ‘rock’ he was glad to Never having had the command of. 

On the side in three pictographs, Spock translated as he swept his tiny beam across the vast bow, “Behold, the Shiva Ra-III.” 

“Tone down the drama, we don’t want to wake the space ghosts,” Kirk shined his light in Spock’s face before he proceeded up a rusty ladder to the entrance, he gripped his light with his teeth and ascended, his hands came in contact with an unknown cold, wet organic slime that he made a show of by rubbing it off on the side of the ship, “They should have ran this through the carwash first.” 

“By means unknown we would have walked into the wrong ship, captain,” Spock followed just two rungs behind and made sure to first wear gloves before putting his hands on the ladder. 

“Steal my sunshine, I don’t care, Spock,” Kirk said as he reached the top, he again wiped his hands on his thighs and proceeded to a sliding door already pried open by what looked like Hands. Human Hands, Kirk slammed his fist into the indenture of four fingers and a palm which was clearly imprinted into the door’s thick heavy sides, “We’re not the only ones’ curious enough to play Sherlock.” 

“Do we have a plan, captain?” Sulu asked when he secured himself to the top rung and peered over to the curious-looking door nearly bent in half. 

“Find anything relating to Khan’s role as captain of the Shiva Ra-III,” Kirk requested of his two crewmates, he looked to both and added, “Salvageable digital files, surveillance media, a few proximate samples and historical logs. All clear?” 

They instantly disbursed, Spock assigning himself to the top level and Hikaru slid down a series of ladders to the engine room, Kirk stood alone wondering what seemed the most important: middle deck ship battlements or archives. Both places he left to himself were rotten to the core, but he got a move on as soon as he regained hold on the situation, he jogged easily avoiding rusted holes in the grate-flooring and kept his light fixed to the floor several steps ahead, once in a while shooting the glaringly white disk left or right to check for doors or steps, taking a hit of pure oxygen once in a while. He swore he had jogged for hours but came upon a floor splitting into two decks, one which had stairs lined to the top and another which had stairs instead of a lift to the floor below, he bit his lip and thought ‘what would Spock do?’ Flipping a coin, he proceeded to the stairs squeaking as he lightly pattered upward, he then answered himself ‘-but I’m not Spock.’ 

The room above seemed a little bare, save for the abandoned battle stations, a single consol caught Kirk’s eye as his beam of light fell on the wiped screen, he sat near and took out his memory port, he searched the edges of the screen until his fingers came in contact with an ancient slide, he laid his port atop the slide and wirelessly booted up the consol. Lights atop the glass screen blinked, sputtering to life and finally began humming in strong cadence as he commenced downloading to the memory port. He waited, and restlessly waited, and paced about until boredom got the best of him, Kirk shined his light over a series of ‘words’ lining the brim and ceiling of the ship, his light came to rest on a cage reaching from floor to ceiling, the dark ore dully gleaming in the strong light, Kirk approached not knowing what to expect. His throat seemed as if to close up the nearer he came, his hand inching to the unlocked hinge, he turned the handle and out came a crash of dust and cobwebs. Inside sightless skulls came dead tissue, attached to those skulls were a range of skeletons, some winged, others with reversed joints, all bipedaled creatures sported some kind of humanoid characteristics: be it their body structure or slightly smoothed skull features. 

Kirk thought he was prepared for anything, yet all coherency was yanked away and no part of What their captain Was made sense; a murdering conqueror going from planet to planet and destroying all that had the innocence of a young budding civilization, yet not the opportunity to advance. His stomach lurched and twisted inside, seeming as if to wrap itself around his spine, sapping his reason straight from his mind, akin to them being wires disconnected from his experiences at Khan’s hands. He stood too aghast to move, the next few steps he had previously planned now replaced by carcasses from galaxies unknown to him, he put the oxygen inhaler to his lips and drew in deep breaths of pure oxygen, slightly clearing away the initial shock of his discovery, Kirk pocketed the inhaler and turned to his port as it chirped, he put the device carefully into his pocket. As if on cue, Spock appeared along with Hikaru, both settling their eyes on the site Kirk decided to forget with a beer and a brawl afterwards, maybe even taking all his frustration out on Khan if Starfleet caught wind of his private life in the provided bars. He felt he was a little overdue for another one of captain Khan’s ‘interrogations.’ 

“Captain-” Spock began, and for the first time seemed speechless, he swallowed and continued, “The logs on deck storage are of no use, all had been destroyed days ago by way of the amount of disturbed dust accumulated on the bridge. Either Khan or one of his crew tainted the Shiva Ra-III before we had detected it.” 

“This is us if we do nothing to stop him,” Kirk’s light rested upon the many skeletons of generations past, his jaws hardened in thought as he decided between outright defying Khan or questioning him directly and publicly on the bridge, he waved his two crewmates behind, “C’mon, we’ve got work to do.” 

\-----  
Kirk again rose back unto his shaky legs, the entire front and seat of his pants soaked through, sticky clear fluids seeping down his legs to his knees as he stilled his jumpy nerves, he felt his lower end clench and squeeze down to his tailbone, wringing out more lubricant and the enticing smell wafting to Khan. Khan’s eyes closed, he breathed in deep, filling his chest and nose with the maddening scent akin to a cloyingly sweetness which made his jaws lock and his cock fill to the tip, the very edges of the scent displaying only what he knew was reminiscent to warmth ready to catch flame, the thick smell of Kirk’s bodily discharge recalling something close of the likes of watery, balmy and organic slowly breaking down into simpler compounds. Yet the two stood, Kirk unable to look away from the cuffs in his captor’s hands, and Khan unable to get enough of the scent permeating his chest, corrupting his mind and body through and through, he blinked, his steely-irises dilating and contracting against the growl rumbling past his throat. 

Kirk found the will to breathe, his shoulders slumped and tired from being rigid for too long, he knew he looked a fine mess facing his captain sweating as if he were walking on the sun’s surface and making life all the more unbearable in general, he put up his fists in a final attempt at protecting what he had left of his modesty, which was the last thing he could keep away from Khan if he so chose. It was a rather weak excuse for keeping his body to himself, but Kirk felt he was better off suffering this damned thing created by nature than to spread himself out for his captain whom at the moment sighed contentedly, deep guttural exhales of air from his body, Kirk’s determination waned only for that moment he caught the slightest glance of Khan appearing both so content and calm, he shook the revere from his mind and blindly trusted himself to his shredded intuition. His fingernails dug into his palms, his knuckles locked hard against his fingers, pain hardly registered since Kirk was inflicting it upon himself, stance feeble but threatening, Khan’s lips twisted into a low chuckle at the supposed ‘alpha’s’ effort at challenging him to a fistfight. 

Kirk’s legs again refused to hold his wobbling weight, his lungs burned, his lower muscles squeezed emptily at his swollen entrance already engorged with blood and mangling the copious liquid out from his own body, another more powerful wave hit him, his mouth hanging open as he panted and groggily shifted on his unsteady toes. He blindly threw his right fist and struck the shuttle’s wall, unfazed he struck twice with his left into the white-lit air around him catching nothing in his line of attack, he heard a chuckled growl near his ear, Kirk spun around almost immediately, losing his sense of balance only temporarily before he widened his stance he blinked away the tears sprung by his nature pleading for penetration, he bit back the airy sob half-wheezed in his throat. His mind assaulted him with images he had never before thought to give a second glance: ordinarily bending over with his ass held straight in the air, blandly falling on his knees and tearing his clothes off and falling unto his elbows, spreading himself out on the floor and tearing his pants open and pushing all his own fingers into his ass, lifting both legs from the floor and spreading his ass open as far as his pouting sphincter allowed…

“Get it together, Kirk!” he rasped to himself, his trembling body feeling as if it were nothing but live nerves beneath his skin, he vaguely grew aware of the tight hollow inside his body grinding against a tiny bundle of sensory nerves roughly behind his testicles, beneath his navel, quivering for contact, he blinked away the tears falling steadily from his lashes and held his fists up higher, his spine bowed forward in defense, realizing he was too far gone he asked himself, “What’s wrong with me?” 

The images seducing behind his mind became vivid, as if they were memories from hours ago, yet he stood unsure of himself whether to willingly accept his fate or to melt into the nature which dictated him, he agreed to neither, he knew as soon as he was used up for Khan’s pleasure that he would be killed on the spot, and he would be of no use to anyone: not to the Earth, not to Starfleet, not to his cause, nobody but Khan’s needs. He took a shaky breath and focused on the long form framed by the white of the shuttle’s walls, willing himself again to not fall if anything were to happen, he blinked as a sound interrupted his plan, a vague humming sound buzzing steadily at his side. He thought to laugh at the situation if it were Khan about to attack him with a vibrator, but with his shitty odds he was sure Khan’s little friend would win. He spun suddenly and came face to face with the next best thing: a medical bed rolling out from the wall. 

At first it was a sense of wonder which turned into intrigue as soon as he caught on, he shook his head and made a mad dash for the automatic locking doors to the pilot’s deck, a pair of strong arms caught him around the waist and threw him unto the sturdy padded bed. Khan cuffed Kirk’s right wrist to an iron handgrip bar welded lengthwise straight across the wall, Kirk kneeled atop the bed, the cuff giving him little room to move as he scrabbled at the Teflon-coated shackle, he tried squeezing his wrist out to no result but Khan’s amusement. He turned to look over his shoulder, he whipped around on his knees panting, whimpering at his grim situation. His body loosened up, relaxing slightly against bed as Khan reached for him, running a finger whisper-softly over his reddened lips, smoothing the saliva away and reaching inward ever so slightly, teasingly pressing against his front teeth, he sucked without thought. Folding his wet tongue in half and sucking the single digit into his mouth, Kirk’s eyes dropped closed, his tongue lapping outwards to Khan’s warm palm, his open lips kissing over the thick knuckles and swallowing around Khan’s fingertip. 

Khan marveled visibly at the sensation of Kirk’s throat closing over his fingernail, the searing warmth encasing his digit, he felt Kirk’s moan vibrating against his hand, he suddenly felt the urge to touch anything he could reach, anything which belonged to Kirk. Yet those blue eyes shot open, the dilated pupils turning into pinpricks, the human growled heatedly, thick lips pulling back to reveal a set of healthy teeth pressed down hard into his flesh, pain failed to register to Khan. His body was numb to the sensory, he breathed hard even as he needed no oxygen, he did for the musky sweetness emitted by the Human clutching his finger defiantly, he again licked his lips as his left hand enclosed around Kirk’s jaw, unlocking the teeth from his finger and his own teeth nipping at Kirk’s racing pulse. He turned the human back around and pulled out another set of shackles, this one especially for Kirk’s left wrist, he snapped the thick padded circlet shut and enclosed the other end to the bar, he then proceeded to examine as Kirk bucked uselessly atop the medical bed. 

\---

-18 months prior:-

Khan again reported to the isolation cells, a new spring in his step from Ballistics Sector and his supervision of his new ship to be unveiled within the next fourteen months: the Ares Convoy. Everything he grew to rely on in the Vengeance combined with every tried and true weapon of the Shiva Ra-III was personally supervised and revised by him alone, no other one of his crew at his side to dissuade him from building a multifaceted planet-killer. News had reached him of Kirk’s escapades of stealing information and blowing it wide open for the world, he decided that he would go to the laboratories after again ingraining the reasons why he was not the person to be fucked with, he strode to the place he always came to twice or three times a week for crimes ranging from Kirk’s explanations of ‘spare me the preaching’ , ‘you’re kidding’ and most famously ‘oops’. He punched in the code through the glass door and walked inside, evidence of a prior interrogation already written all over Kirk’s face in bruises and a bloodied lip, the human nonetheless smirked smile that would have been charming if it were not so bloody. 

“Where are the hardcopies, James Kirk?” Khan questioned, pacing himself for the long hours ahead inside the isolation cell, he clasped his hands behind his back to keep from wringing Kirk’s neck for the second time. 

“Have you tried the directory, Captain Khan?” Kirk calmly dabbed his lip with his gray uniform, looking up expectantly to his captain for a response, “You look a little lost.” 

“I found you on the main bridge of the Squadron 2 breaking the finer points of security - Hacking into the Squadron’s mainframe, stealing and publicizing all but point-five-percent of the contents,” the captain’s voice lost the tightly reined patience, he found it harder and harder to control his human officer, nearly to the point of mental exhaustion yet he kept on tabs unless Kirk finally decided to fall into step with the rest of Earth; he explained while recalling the global media mishap involving Kirk and all his past recovered logs, “Your signature signoff at the very end after streaming the airwaves illegally in Your voice.” 

“Did I break my last record?” Kirk asked, spitting a glob of blood on the white wall just inches away from Khan’s face. 

“Sadly not,” Khan mock-consoled, his pale hand reaching up and sweeping away stray blood flecks from his cheek, he laid his hand on Kirk’s neck and steadily added pressure behind his sturdy tendons, “But I will.” 

Kirk at first sat perfectly still, his face gradually turning red, and finally he began struggling to break the grip on his neck, his arm pounding against Khan’s forearm and elbow to no gain, the human’s eyes burned as it always had: brilliantly blue like the genetic prism, the color so close and true that the captain had to blink twice to clear away the color from his retinas, yet further still the twin circlets of light glowed inside his optic nerves, flashing angrily while Kirk stared him down, unable to look away and close his eyes as death came over him in the form of his captain. The human tilted himself back as a last resort to dislodge Khan’s palm away from his throat, the captain followed him to the floor and wrapped his other pale palm around Kirk’s neck, wringing every screaming breath of oxygen out of the soundless mouth, Kirk grit his teeth, his throat making cracking sounds and hearing his blood vessels slow to a squeaking halt just over his faintly beating heart, his feeble attempts at ripping the pale hands off his neck stuttered, his arms feeling so heavy that he fought for the last ounce of effort he had. 

Khan’s eyes glazed over with Kirk’s silent lips open and red, the perspiration around his gaping mouth turning cold and evaporating in the cool air, he poked at the plush lips which gave to his finger. Khan tilted the unresponsive face slightly upwards and pinched the nose, he breathed deep and leaned over Kirk’s open mouth, forcing the air into Kirk’s deflated lungs, he pressed his palms one over the other atop Kirk’s chest and pushed firmly down and upwards at a slight angle, encouraging the human to breathe, he leaned down, again pinched Kirk’s nose and exhaled into the open mouth, Kirk sputtered and took a gasping breath into his oxygen-starved lungs. His blue irises dilated just a touch until he was focused on the brightly-lit room, glancing groggily to the familiar walls and widening when they came to a stop on Khan’s body kneeled over his own still sprawled on the floor, Kirk swallowed dryly and continued to softly pant. 

“Where are the hardcopies?” Khan leaned lower into the human’s breathing space, his right hand still splayed carelessly over Kirk’s steadily beating heart. 

Kirk fearlessly hissed, “Kiss my -!” 

Khan again wrapped his hands around Kirk’s throat, his tongue licking away the traces of blood he picked up from Kirk’s lips, he squeezed firmly in attempt not to break any blood vessels or shatter the fragile cartilage windpipe next to Kirk’s spine, he marveled at the adam’s apple bobbing desperately against his thumbs, their constant straining and movement lulling him into a trance only until Kirk began opening and closing his mouth, the blood-stained teeth trying their hardest to attack Khan’s arms. Kirk ripped uselessly at the arms unmoving and unforgiving on his skin, his body again readying itself to die, he fought the fog enclosing about him, the weight of gravity settling on his limbs, the cold heat on his face giving a final show of blatant disobedience, he kicked uselessly at the table legs and threw his fists wildly into Khan’s face and abdomen. Khan on the other hand fed off the light draining away from Kirk’s eyes, the intense blue showing a flame dying out, the black pupils alas settling to unmoving blots on Kirk’s irises. 

Something nagged at the back of Khan’s consciousness, he could hardly tell if it were sadness or bliss pulling his lips into a smile, he settled for the sensation he felt as the sour prick of disappointment teasing the edges of his judgment into action. He leaned over Kirk’s body and straightened the human’s crooked posture, he tilted Kirk’s head back to a degree where he could easily insert his fingers, two digits went past Kirk’s bruised cheeks, and between the strain-puffed tonsils which easily allowed him passage, he gently pushed the soft cartilaginous flaps of the soft larynx apart, he applied soft pressure Kirk’s windpipe to align naturally, he twisted his fingers to evenly massage away the bruising his hands left, he withdrew his fingers and sucked off the mixture of foamy saliva and blood. 

Khan leaned over Kirk’s motionless torso, he pressed his lips over Kirk’s wide soundless cry, he exhaled into the vacant throat, he kneeled straight up and put his left palm over his right and pressed into Kirk’s chest in steady intervals of five, he inhaled deeply and pinched Kirk’s nose shut, he exhaled entirely into the awaiting mouth and put both palms over Kirk’s chest to encourage the lungs to take in oxygen. On his fourth set of untiringly massaging Kirk’s body back to life, he gave one more push to the human’s sore upper torso, Kirk pushed the hands away and rolled unto his side to cough the hard carbon dioxide still lodged like a plug in his throat. Kirk wheezed tiredly, gasping and spitting a salty-metallic flavor which clung to his tongue and teeth, he glanced up from below his brows to Khan whom only quietly observed and took into account the settling color of Kirk’s skin returning to normal. Kirk rolled unto his back and continued to struggle against the hot ache inside his throat and on his chest, he swallowed his dried saliva once more and wet his lips, he glanced at his captain still hovering over him stoically. 

“The hardcopies, Kirk,” Khan’s voice rang the deep no-nonsense timbre, again his hand resting on Kirk’s beating heart as if gauging haphazardly a nearly accurate lie detector. 

“Starfleet sewage-” Kirk weakly whispered, he braced to die for the fourth time at Khan’s hands, none too eager to feel like a rebooted computer while he was at it. 

Khan shoved two fingers down Kirk’s parched throat, his right hand again crushing the air out of the human’s lungs; Kirk ground his teeth against the large knuckles and thumb pressing under his tongue, he grasped at Khan’s immovable biceps, finally wrapping around the pale throat neither breathing nor collapsing beneath his conjoined hands, he twisted his hands with all his might, staring from beneath his eyebrows to his captain. His legs kicked and heels squeaked against the smooth floor as he tried to backpedal or wretch himself from Khan’s hands, he felt the right hand constrict firmly around his throat, effectively stopping his movements only for a weak half heartbeat, he bucked up on his legs and shoulders, his lungs prickling slightly at the lack of oxygen. Kirk wrapped his right leg first over Khan’s left shoulder, his limb slipped off but regained its former hold, he threw his right leg over Khan’s right shoulder and squeezed with all his might as he pulled himself up on Khan’s shoulders, his legs constricting tightly around Khan’s head, he alas sat atop Khan’s shoulders, his trembling hands giving one last hurrah before he dropped dead from lack of oxygen all the while Khan kept his pale fingers lodged in his stiff throat and hand grasped over his effectively stuffed windpipe. To his surprise, Khan’s eyes flashed momentarily. 

Khan tighten his grip slightly, he then spoke undeterred as if Kirk’s grip was too weak to keep him from speaking, “We can do this all night, James Kirk.” 

Kirk mouthed through his embarrassingly occupied lips, yet Khan understood simply by lip movement, “So can I-!” 

“Luckily, I value a living target to dead intent,” Khan stood and easily peeled Kirk’s weakened legs off of his neck as the human fell spine first atop the table, he disengaged his right hand from the bruised throat, allowing Kirk to breathe scarcely through the tiny hollows of his two fingers, he took Kirk’s weak left arm and laid it across the table’s edge, half of the forearm laying offside, Khan explained as he gripped the upper half of Kirk’s forearm atop the table, “But let this be a lesson to you…” 

Khan pressed his knee down on the tense arm, slowly snapping the bones as Kirk ripped at his uniform shirt, he pulled his fingers away and sucked each digit clean, tasting blood and stale saliva, he said over his shoulder and punched the key code for the door to unlock, “You are dismissed, Second Lieutenant Kirk.” 

Kirk lay for a moment taking in all the oxygen his lungs could hold without bursting and shutting out as much pain as he was capable of, he rolled off his sore spine and avoided moving his stiff neck, he gently held his fractured left forearm to his body as he marched out with his head held high, his eyes glaring unfalteringly to those of his captain for seconds before he brushed past and continued on his way out. 

\---

Kirk shoved and pulled at the sturdy bar, his shouted frustrations heard by no one but his captain, he threatened with non-worded ‘or else’s’ as Khan came to stand at his side, grabbing him by the neck of his uniform and leaning in close, Kirk nearly allowed his eyes shut to the kiss, yet Khan ripped his uniform top straight away, lips twisting fully into a smirk, his sleeves and the back giving away to his captain’s force. He struck his knee into Khan’s side pathetically using all his own determined strength to discourage Khan from going any further, to injure him in some way; he groaned frantically as Khan’s hands came to rest on his boots, shucking them away easily and working on his black pants. Kirk determinedly grabbed hold of the bar and clenched his knees together in order to keep his last item of clothing on, he folded his ankles atop the other and waited. 

Tense muscles fluttered over Kirk’s back, Khan snaked his fingers around Kirk’s taut abdomen, his thumbs brushing against the slick muscles, he unbuckled the human’s belt and allowed the material to slither around the young man’s waist before being left next to the pillow. He caught the flush on Kirk’s cheeks as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband and slowly inched the soft material down over the gentle slope of hips, Kirk’s whimpered gasp as he pulled the article lower urged him on, he licked firmly up between Kirk’s shoulder blades to the tiny blonde tufts. Kirk held on, his fingers bruising themselves against the bar, his skin burning with every accidental and unhurried touch, his muscles aching and quivering as did everywhere else, his back glowed from Khan’s gaze, his ass again clutching and twisting his insides from the wet emptiness he felt, his head dropped against his elbows as Khan cupped his ass in both warm hands, squeezing and gently tapping against his sweaty thighs. He felt himself relax in Khan’s hold for only a second and he squeezed himself back together, his head propped between his elbows in self-disgust. 

Khan dragged Kirk by his shivering hips to the side of the bed so he would easier observe without needing to climb up also and scare his officer with the bulge ready to tear his sanity away, yet he moreover became fond of the prospect of ever so torturously corrupting Kirk. He placed both palms on either side of Kirk’s cheeks, slowly pulling each muscular swell apart, he watched fascinated at the engorged opening pout outwards and leak clear drops of bodily liquid, he smeared around the reddened blossom of flesh with the tips of his thumbs, gently as if soothing away any tenseness held, Khan felt his officer shakily whimper against the medical bed’s wall, the sound so high small and meek, Khan pulled at the rosette, pressing into Kirk’s soft skin and spreading the smooth flesh apart as efficiently as he could barely manage. His lower body pulsed as he knelt against the medical bed, feeling the new padded mattress quiver, the throaty sighs and tiny whimpers urging him on even if Kirk was pleading with him feebly to stop, he licked straight from behind Kirk’s testicles to his tailbone, savoring the deliciously pungent sweetness wrapping warmly around his tongue. 

Kirk held in his squeak, sucking in his own lower lip and holding his breath as Khan’s tongue caressed the inner seam of his body, each new bead of warm lubricant licked away and the fingers slowly prying apart his cheeks again, his torso seized to the point of pain as Khan teasingly licked around his clenching hole, the nerves surrounding glowing and alive with the heat’s hormones. To his revulsion, Kirk felt the sickening slide of his own knees spreading and cock spring up from between his thighs, bobbing into the air and standing unfazed, leaking between his legs all the while Khan continued to wretch pitiful sobs out from between his bruised lips, the wet organ slipped over his quivering aperture, his hands turning white against the rail he held to, the shackles thudding against his wrists and the bar. Kirk’s face burned, his cheeks scalded, his blood boiled, his nerves snaked throughout beneath the layer of his skin on fire, his mind swam in a fog of biological lust, his heart thudded hard against his chest, his stomach twisted and churned, every bone ached as did every muscle sting for the pheromones coursing through him in a pace too quick to keep track of. He felt as if he were drowning on dry land and dying though his body was full of life. 

Kirk again held his breath, his nervous exhale moreover startled away than expelled, he watched uncertainly, his wide teary eyes trained on Khan’s hand holding out a blade momentarily before his body, but felt the tip scraping it’s cold edge along his left shoulder, the blade’s blunt edge playfully pushing against his spine, slowly, nearly lovingly caressing in small circles down to his exposed ass. Kirk swallowed his scream, the agony of being ravaged by the knife all too painfully cut into his imagination, the desire he felt was constant, yet he now wished against with to fight if he were not so afraid, to display some type of bravado which would delay the blade from biting long deep welts into his flesh. Almost as quickly, the blade tore quickly but carefully through his pants from back to his fly, the shredded material fell in two down his thighs and gathered around his bent knees, fully displaying his round ass and muscled thighs to Khan’s stare, Kirk shivered against the cool index finger which traced him from knee to inner thigh. 

Two hands went to his thighs, parting his legs further until he nearly sat atop the lubricant-puddle on the medical bed, Kirk tensed to the single exhale cooling the messy liquid dripping down between his cheeks and sliding over his testicles, his eyebrows knit, his pained sobbing catching him by the tail of his hunger-fueled fear and adding new salty tears to his already-stained face. His forehead grinded into his wrists as if denying reality, rubbing out the memories, yet his body yanked him back into the present: gasping, wet inside and out, and a firm hand guiding his cock down through his legs until the length bent, splitting his testicles unfazed and still engorged to the pulsing head, Kirk finally peeked over his shoulder, unable to Not look away any longer. What he saw shocked him breathless and stole the words from his lips, striking a wave of desire down his legs. 

Khan knelt next to Kirk’s full ass, his fingers easily circling the human’s cock as he bowed the organ backwards until both cock and engorged nether orifice quivered side by side, he did not know what to do first, his mouth watered at both enticing sights sharing the same expanse of flesh, he firmly cupped Kirk’s cock between his nether cheeks and licked the throbbing length from base to tip, right over Kirk’s contracting bud of flesh and ending at the human’s tailbone, sucking the near-invisible protrusion before he dipped his head back down, his lips tracing Kirk’s cock head. He sucked the tip hard, his tongue circling around and flicking over the slit, he allowed Kirk to grind against his face as he glossed his tongue up gradually devouring each centimeter of flesh with open-mouthed nips and soft bites, licking straight over the dripping slit and pressing his lips to the enticing little blossom clenching for penetration, begging silently to hold something inside. Khan experimentally dipped the tip of his tongue in, watching Kirk above him sigh against his cuffed wrists and the tanned shoulder blades tense, he allowed the cock he held to slip from his palm and slap against Kirk’s abdomen. 

He again grasped the two thick lumps of supple flesh, his thumbs peeling the sphincter a bit, he swept his tongue inward, tearing a humiliated sob from Kirk, he pressed his thick tongue in, feeling the muscles contract hungrily against his thumbs, the inner walls sliding against his tongue as he pulled out. He pressed inward, tasting the source of the scent wafting off Kirk, his tongue twisted, slithered deeper and flicked every which way possible, his lips sucking the outer expanse and his teeth gently scraping at the reddened edges spread over his tongue, Kirk twisted and pressed against Khan’s lips, his body begging for release. Khan pressed two dry fingers into Kirk’s swollen opening which twitched needily and wetted his digits thickly of bodily lubricant, parting the entrance as far as it allowed without tearing, he licked into the space upwards, his tongue delving inside and freely squirming, lapping up the heated liquids dripping past his lips and soaking down his knuckles. Kirk began thrusting mindlessly into the air, his long cries wretched mournfully from his chest, falling to appreciative ears. 

\---

Bones expected nothing more than either a few bruises or half a dozen broken bones, he securely splinted Kirk’s arm and sighed huffily, “This takes the cake, kid.” 

“Then we aught to celebrate,” Kirk grinned ear to ear to Bones’ pointed glare, he lounged against the only ‘coffee break’ couch in the underground terminal and itched at the edge of the gauze and plastic encasing his left arm neatly, he scratched at the wide cold compression patch on his bruised neck, several dotted all along his shoulder blades, and two more encased his knuckles of both hands. 

“No, thanks. I keep my business and bullshit separate,” Bones lifted Kirk’s x-ray to a penlight and circled the short fracture in both the ulna and radius bones, he frowned as Kirk tore the slide away from him and stuffed it underneath a folder, “All done. Now go do something safe for a change.” 

“Done!” Kirk agreed, he stood to his former first officer whom was passing and fiddling with a PADD, “How’re we doing, Spock?” 

“Prepared for trials and ready for global distribution within the next six days if successful,” Spock informed as his former captain took initiative to walk with him, he turned to Kirk after setting aside his PADD against his back, “If I may, captain-?” 

“What’s on your mind?” Kirk asked, glancing around for something technically food if not the horrible Starfleet rations issued to them by the dehydrated tray-full, he picked up an energy bar and peeled back the foil. 

“We are all well aware of the risks placed upon you as the test subject, are you certain you want to proceed though the compounds are unstable?” Spock turned to face him fully, his Vulcan traits betraying what Kirk categorized as ‘tactful concern’, he bit off half of the bar and chewed thoughtfully. 

“Do you want to be injected as well as a participant in the Omega Theory?” he asked after his nth try at swallowing down the scratchy vitamin meal, he waggled a brow, “We could make a pit stop on Orion when we’re all done here.” 

“Logic dictates the utilization of ‘bodily talents’ are far less practical especially in the light of our own rare convenience,” Spock answered, his eyebrows twitching and voice even. 

“A ‘no’ would have been enough,” Kirk shrugged and took the last bite, he worked around swallowing by choking and having Spock pat his back. 

“I was just saving myself the time to explicate by defending my decision while the initiative was placed upon you to work out my answer for me, captain,” Spock answered, taking to Kirk’s heels as they began weaving about the traffic inside the vast terminal. 

“Touché,” Kirk said, the pair stopped at a broken vending machine which Kirk simply reach into and pulled out a bag of licorice, “You know what this means, Spock?” 

“As opposed to reading your mind, captain?” Spock raised a brow and pulled the PADD from his back, tapping through several itinerary lists he had made days before, “You are to take part in the Alpha Theory, fitting the impression of your sexual bravado.” 

“Thank you, Spock. I knew you cared,” Kirk took a heaping handful of the chopped candy and chewed. 

“Say hello to Doctor McCoy,” Spock showed a list of three names on his PADD to his captain, weary of Kirk’s difficulty swallowing, “He will be joining you along with Mister Chekov.” 

“And whose supposed to be in the Omega and Beta tests?” Kirk asked, his throat clearing of the chewy candy as he dug into the bag and popped them into his mouth one by one. 

“Mister Sulu and Miss Uhura have readily volunteered to be Omegas,” Spock informed, touching the glass surface to change to another slide, he swept the page aside and came to the last list, “Mister Scott consented to being the controlled experiment: a Beta.” 

“Aren’t Sulu and Pavel…?” Kirk questioned as he fished into the bag and turned to his former first officer, he swallowed, referring to the unusual stereotype reversal of his two crewmates, he gave up finding an explanation and the reason to argue with Spock at the moment, “Never mind.” 

“Trials begin in an hour near Doctor McCoy’s workstation,” Spock said, leading the way back to McCoy’s area of the terminal. 

“Why don’t you join? The Omega’s team is one player short,” Kirk asked, in the slightest intrigued by Spock’s seemingly uninterested involvement with the entire affair. 

Spock looked on ahead, answering as he deemed fit, “Battling my cycles of Pon Farr as opposed to having heat cycles characteristically meant for Omegas is-” 

“Illogical?” Kirk interrupted, his pride in predicting the Vulcan brimming visibly. 

“Superfluous, captain,” Spock replied simply, which Kirk had to agree with completely, he wondered how his former first officer could handle a Heat on top of Pon Farr, maybe a good thing for Bones since their medic had an obvious ‘thing’ for the Vulcan. 

“I won’t judge,” Kirk shrugged, his mischievous smile spreading across his face as he added coolly, “It would only be interesting since Bones is testing to be an Alpha.” 

“The interest is yours alone,” Spock responded, the slightest hint of color tinting his cheeks. 

“You’re gonna love it, Spock,” Kirk bumped his shoulder against Spock’s and received something close to a bashful glare, he reeled back slightly in his last statement to make more sense on Spock’s part, “I don’t mean Pon Farr and constant Heats, but the results with you-know-who.” 

Spock’s face visible grasped for the mysterious ‘you-know-who’, the color on his cheeks darkened a degree as his eyebrows knit in the inching suspicion, “Are you implying-?” 

“Yes, so will you get on board before Uhura replaces you?” Kirk grinned, patting Spock on the back heartily as they approached Bones’ area. 

Spock sat down atop a medical gurney opposite of Kirk, he laid the PADD down beside himself and glanced away from Bones whom approached with an armful of color-coded vials and glasses in place, “I suppose I may be able to handle a few intense bouts of Heat…” 

“That’s the sprit, Spock!” Kirk laughed, he motioned with his splinted arm, “Make yourself comfortable in the Anarchy.” 

“Hierarchy, captain,” Bones corrected in passing as he checked the vials and empty hypo-syringes, he looked questioningly to Spock wondering if he could at least give a warning of the choice he was making, Spock only nodded his silent consent. 

“That’s what I meant,” Kirk mumbled while chewing slyly at the few morsels he had in hand. 

The next five hours of injecting and interviewing was so successful that Kirk felt in the slightest proud of his work…well Half of it being that it was his idea and the rest was up to Spock and Bones whom synthesized artificial genes which bonded with their own Human/Vulcan ones’ perfectly without a hitch, he learned afterwards by way of their grumpy Doctor McCoy of their soon-to-be conditions of heats. Kirk took easily to his heightened sense of smell, his fingertips sensing every texture down to the air’s humidity, his ears sensitive and receiving whispers down to the perfect syllable, his strength and pain threshold a little more substantial, his healing factor was in turn slower but he had the stamina and metabolism of a teenager, all the way down to his already surging hormones. No one else seemed to notice or told McCoy their concerns in private, but he went out on the town that night to let the animal free, he would not allow himself the luxury of female company until he grew accustomed to controlling his newfound hope in the Human species. 

The first batch that night went statewide, within four months nationwide and finally, global near the end of the year. 

\---

Khan only got as far as pulling off his shirt and tugging his stiff cock out of his undone pants before he knelt atop the medical bed, his fingers brushing teasingly up Kirk’s thighs, over slim hips, ghosting over the base of the human’s untouched length, the once-smooth base showing a slight swell, he looked over Kirk’s shoulder to double check and saw the very beginning of a knot. He thought to question Kirk and possibly break the mood, yet the hard-won compliance was sure to be ruined and Kirk would revert back to his feral mindset; Khan lightly brushed over the prominent base gradually filling out, the skin along the base becoming darker with blood and Kirk squirming in his captain’s interrogative observation, his fingers rubbing the firm base and his other hand ghosting lightly along the tightly swelled extent to the very tip. Kirk’s soft voluptuous roar to end the teasing went unheard, Khan licked and sucked at the nape of the human’s neck, the human in return squeezed his shoulders together, understanding full well if either sides of his neck below the ear were bitten, he would ultimately -completely by laws written in his genes- belong to Khan, he instead allowed the illusion of a claim by hesitantly complying to his captain’s wishes. 

His face burning with same as Khan prodded his unusual penis, the angry flush mimicking his cheeks, Khan steadily rutted against the once-clean wetness of his ass, feeling the embarrassing contract his nether lips against the head and length of his captain’s cock, and something alarmingly common to his own, Kirk’s eyes went wide. He looked over his shoulder, almost afraid of why he would see, his eyes scanned from the thick tip of Khan’s erection, down the smooth-veined sides, he gulped at the sight of a slight forming bulb at the end, larger, thicker, so very painful yet his spine and shivering aperture pulsed hungrily, his nipples and lips followed suit throbbing in unnerving awareness. Khan’s lips pressed softly to his nape, warmth bloomed on his skin where his captain touched, almost soothing while their situation did nothing to ease his discomfort, the hands glided up over his sides, his ribs shivering as they were touched and cupped against his pectorals, the thumbs rubbing the heated red nubs. His ears picked up a low appreciative groan at his left side, the sound nearly a possessive growl if he listened carefully enough, he felt the thick cock slide between his cheeks and prod gently at the back of his tightly drawn testicles, lightly pushing against his perineum. 

Kirk felt himself slowly melting away, even the name given by his father no longer in his memory, the heat burning him to madness completely, the only thing left of his former self was the shame, so great and constant he denied to give up the only sense of control he had left tugging urgently at the edge of his consciousness. Khan was nonetheless tangled in the same madness, his face finally showing some type of pleasure, his eyes slightly hooded and lips freely kissing, licking and nipping along Kirk’s nape and tense shoulders, he nuzzled into the short blonde hair, breathing the complexly sweet scent and pinching both pleasingly taut nipples in his fingertips. Kirk shuddered against his chest, he felt his skin respond in kind by heating and welcoming Kirk’s body against his own draped over the human, Khan pressed the tip over Kirk’s tailbone, the blunt head spreading pre-cum and lubricant down, parting Kirk’s cheeks but not entering. The sensation alone had Kirk on edge, wondering if he fainted right now that Khan would just keep on using his body until reaching completion, anticipation caused his stomach to lurch, his sweat to pour straight from his body, he breathed in the soothing air: his own sweetness tinged with Khan’s virile spices. 

So very intoxicating he momentarily lost himself merely sniffing and gasping to the rich scents coiling his desire all the tighter, so close to him and so completely entwined his head rolled back dazed, the weightlessness in his muscles leaving as his forehead touched Khan’s shoulder, he sighed half his contentment and the other in muted yearning for Anything, and everything his body craved. Khan kissed gently over his brows, plush lips touching atop his half-closed eyelids, the tip of his nose and the soft skin below Kirk’s eyelashes, the tears pooling just below the tiny creases and refusing to stop, he welcomed the soft touches, his voice humming out high-pitched cries as the two hands on his chest resumed pinching and rolling his swollen nipples, pushing firm pressure on the tips only to pinch them and lightly tug, with Kirk’s body completely relaxed, Khan pushed in, the quivering aperture at once squeezing down. Kirk’s head lolled in denial against Khan’s shoulder, his hands slipping from the bar yet balled into hard fists inside the padded Teflon cuffs, he felt the tip withdraw, and ever so slowly push inward only slightly deeper, he released his choked whimpers as once more the delicious pain fed and soothed the heat momentarily. 

Through the cloudy haze of his teary sight, Kirk made out the steel gray of his captain’s eyes watching him intently, the pinching of his nipples jolting him stiff and his teeth clenched over his slightly opened lips, his skin thrummed softly beneath Khan’s velvety kisses, his knit-brows easing as the soft lips met his skin and tickled along the short hairs above his half-closed eyes. 

\---

16 Months Prior: 

Kirk sat in the isolation cell, his ear being slowly ripped off by the voice of his new captain, one of Khan’s defrosted officers whom went by the name Captain Avra of the Squadron Flight Unit; formerly a battalion general on land and gunnery director in the air, he was now promoted to captain of his own ship, one taken directly from the blueprints he and Spock had studied days before. He was as striking as the rest of Khan’s awakened crew, placid green eyes, close-cropped dark blonde hair and sharp features, slim build but taller and as powerful as a dozen perfectly trained infantrymen. Kirk was otherwise sick to his dirtied boots of having to listen to the captain march about him and speak incessantly of rules, chewing him through and spitting him out with his human pride still intact.

“Protocol - schmotocol,” Kirk drummed his fingers over the glazed table displaying all the damages done by he alone on the glass surface.

“Is that all you have to say for yourself, Crewmate Gunman Kirk?” captain Avra grabbed Kirk by the front of his shirt and slowly twisted the material to constrict around his neck. 

“Am I going to be First Officer again? It’s a lot more fun than tearing civilizations to pieces,” Kirk easily spoke through the soft material ripping down along captain Avra’s fixed grip, all the more annoying his captain whom had no qualms with showing infuriation. 

“Fun. Half of my Fleet is gone and the ship is in dire need of repair for the last stunt you’ve pulled,” Avra flung Kirk to the nearest wall, slightly jarring the human’s grin, he spun and landed a heel against Kirk’s right shoulder, bringing the human to his knees, Avra took Kirk by the scruff and hauled him into a corner. 

“So Jim Kirk is a bad aim, so what? It won’t happen again,” Kirk grinned as the sharp throb of pain erupted in his collarbone, he concluded it was broken with a sizable bruise already spreading over his skin, “Water under the bridge?” 

“You’ve flooded the bridge Three times,” Avra said, powering his fist into Kirk’s left temple, making Kirk feel as if his brain was somehow dented in the process. 

“Hey, I’m an officer, not a plumber,” he said hazily, he awaited knowingly for the next hit to break another bone, and still he kept talking, “I know this guy; great with pipes, but they’ll squeak for a while in the toilets-” 

“Captain Avra,” captain Khan appeared betwixt the pair in his calm tone, one standing over and posing to strike, the other indifferent and waiting, his chin dipped towards the door to the crewmate sporting clenched fists, “A word?” 

“Dismissed-!” Avra’s blow broke and misplaced several of Kirk’s ribs, effectively lighting up the fire behind his hateful tears springing to his blue eyes, the captain directed to his officer standing behind Khan, “First Officer Rig, Escort Jim Kirk to several sessions of Desensitization, I will have no more incompetence from him.” 

“Denied,” Khan took Kirk by the arm and wrapped it around Rig’s shoulder, he then ordered to the human officer, “Report to medical quarters, Kirk.” 

Avra grabbed Kirk by the arm and objected to Khan, “But-!” 

Khan’s hand easily disconnected Avra’s wrist, crushing the carpal bones and radius joint, he charged his shoulder into Avra, knocking the captain off balance and making a spiked fist with his middle finger slightly raised from his knuckles as he swiped into Avra’s throat, the captain fell on his tail and struggled to swallow the livewire-like agony. Khan only palmed back his misplaced strands and peered from beneath his brow to Kirk, his order clear and immutable, “To medical quarters, Kirk.” 

Khan watched as his officer was taken away, he helped up captain Avra whom apologized after regaining his speech and deserting the isolation cell without preamble, Khan felt his nerve endings flare only for a moment but die down the instant captain Avra disappeared into the maze of white walls and glass dividers. He had no idea what came over him, watching captain Avra beat Kirk should have been justifiable, even gratifying in the slightest, but he stood a moment in pause - running explanations and solutions silently inside his mind, wondering Where in time had he felt so attached to Kirk. Realization dawned on him: he was eccentrically possessive by no fault of his own. 

A shift in his pants brought him out of his musings, he strode to the lavatory which he never used, ignoring the chime as he entered, he locked the door and licked his lips in view of the swell in his pants, he deftly unbuckled, unzipped and exposed himself to the cool air. Nothing out of the ordinary except he was blatantly aroused, he peeled back the foreskin and exposed his glans, and sliding his fingers to the base where he again felt the stir begin to take place, he parted his fingers around the base and was met with two engorged spherical protrusions, something vaguely resembling a bulb at the base of his penis, he squeezed the firmness experimentally, his erection twitched and released a bead of procreant fluid. His fingers dipped into the new hunger his body so craved at that very moment, to release and keep discharging until he was worn to the bone, suddenly a scent released from his pores, a musk to entice even the most unwilling of Humans. 

Images of a past he left behind came raining back, assaulting his closed eyelids, those of his last one night stand: a beautiful agamogenic being with soft features and a playful talent for having ‘her’ tentacles trace over Khan’s body, her body was mostly resembling of a slender androgynous human, ‘her’ tentacles serving as clothing and weaving themselves about long legs and over ‘her’ smooth chest, her slippery flesh clothing unwrapping themselves away from her during their private moments together. Those appendages kissing his nipples, licking their warm tongues up his chest, one or two squeezing his testicles and the other wrapping around the base of his cock, sometimes even wrapping the entire length while he fucked ‘her’, squeezing ‘her’ hips and plunging into one of two openings churning their inner mouths inside the body they occupied. The gaseous moon reflecting the dimming rays of the blue sun dying away, leaving the two tangled in each other for the ravenous sensations their bodies demanded, glittering eyes of his otherworldly courtesan stare infinitely into his face. 

Two tentacles wrapping around Khan’s legs as ‘she’ scooted ‘herself’ closer, tethering them both into one indistinguishable form, ‘her’ legs hooked over Khan’s shoulders, smooth metallic fingers clenched delicately in the wooly silk of the bed creaking and denting below them in their continuous movement, the quad-tongued voice freely screaming through ‘her’ lips adding to Khan’s memory. He looked away to the moon for only a moment, yet in place of the multi-limbed courtesan, he found Kirk’s body wrapped tightly around him, the male sighs escaping his swollen lips as he met Khan’s eyes, his sticky fingers searching out for the captain kneeling above him and connected to him intimately, he whimpered as Khan sucked in his fingers, his hips pumping in hard. Khan fell unto his back, watching Kirk rise up and drop himself into his lap, those fingers reaching down to grip his cheeks as sweat collected on the human’s flushed muscles, he surged into the tight heat churning around him and reluctant to release as he pulled out. He rolled them both over and pulled out of the sobbing human, he slithered down and sucked the still-hard cock into his mouth, the engorged head ready to burst into his mouth, he sucked the entire length down to his throat, contracting his muscles as Kirk twisted and moaned, the cock giving one last pulse before completely going limp in his mouth. 

Khan tugged as release burned him inside out, his body slumped against the cool tiled wall of the lavatory, he glanced into the center of his palm dripping thick white release, he looked to the base of his cock which twitched still hard and bloated at the base, he breathily whispered to no one in particular, “Interesting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's most of the plot


	4. Birth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things are being created as we go, no more canon except if you really squint & think too hard (like i did) :P

-20 months prior:-

Kirk gazed out of his captain’s chair, his chin in hand and his position slouching into the padded seat overlooking a monitor to his right at a vacant crew station, the camera attached outside the ship trained on a pulsing red giant named the Quasar Apollo, while all around came the ever-burning whites and dull blue of smaller stars, he sat entranced by the sudden flare and dying blur of the red star. The more he thought of the tons of fuel burned by the star, he wondered of the energy of his own solar system’s sun and the potential the Quasar Apollo had to create a universe of it’s own, and all it took was an accident, either a rogue comet or simply gravity to gather the ingredients of life and change radically from destruction to accidental conception. What a beautiful universe the Quasar Apollo had the potential to make, he shifted moreover to the flawless pixels shifting and changing in real time, he wondered if at all whether Khan would destroy that budding solar system also if he had the choice of eradicating a ‘needless’ waste of cosmic energy, Kirk on the other hand felt obligated to protect it and the surrounding planets. 

“…-In full, I personally advise you to surrender, captain Kirk,” Khan’s voice rumbled over the intercom, Kirk finally looked back to the screen on deck projecting the stoic face of humanity’s adversary. 

“Negative,” Kirk shrugged in his chair, fully facing the screen and allowing himself to smirk knowingly, “Any last words, Khan?” 

“Comm Starfleet,” Khan impassively responded, his lips hardly moving as he answered, “Notify them of your untimely defeat.” 

“Follow your own advice, thanks,” Kirk replied, sitting straighter as he buckled himself into the chair without removing his eyes from the icy gaze of his fateful rival, his voice both displaying the full colors of threatening playfulness, “Don’t worry, I’ll pray for you, captain Khan. Wish me luck.” 

“Kirk out,” Kirk announced, his screen instantly went blank, he ordered to the audio feed wired about the bridge since he was without his crew on the Enterprise, “All shields to full capacity - Charge all phasers - Auto-lock on enemy ship’s lower quadrant - Systems on standby, await my signal!” 

Kirk watched Marcus’s stolen USS Vengeance tower over the Enterprise, the sun of a far off system blocked out behind the black leviathan shadow casting over the Enterprise, the Enterprise slipped forward and turned only to face the colossal war-giant’s energy vibrate his explorer vessel. The alarms of his vessel blinked silently as the pitch ocean of stars and unborn galaxies swept both ships in infinite emptiness, he knew as his alarms blared that he would rather go down fighting than saving his own life to bow down before Khan. 

He dug his hands into the armrests and ordered his empty ship, “Brace for impact!” 

Phasers not unlike a rain of rogue comets crashed against the mid right deck of the Enterprise, shaking the entire vessel wildly and setting off several danger signals, Kirk glanced at each monitor reading he had synced to the sides of the bridge’s clear windowpane: Shields ninety-one percent, Radiation Damage ninety percent, Antigravity one-hundred percent, Engines ninety-nine percent, Core Health one-hundred percent, and Ship Sensor Health seventy-eight percent. Khan on the other had increased energy output to all weapons as opposed to conserving, the telltale warning signal flashing on the screen as once more Kirk endured the next volley of apparently random shots fired to the ship, as if Khan were luxuriating in an outmatched victory. Kirk’s blood rushed and his palms began to sweat cold drops, he pulled himself up on the seat and guessed more than likely Khan was playing with him, like a bored genius not giving a care in the world since being right all the time was as tiring as being clever all the same, two can play at That game. 

Kirk shouted new orders all the while Khan calculated the probabilities of the Enterprise or it’s captain coming out alive within the next volleys, he knew firing at the ships exterior would not only hinder escape, but also damage the pipes which breathe life into the ship, eventually depleting the tanks of precious oxygen, he rather liked the indirect approach and decided to intentionally allow the Enterprise a chance to retaliate. The chances of Kirk or the Enterprise surviving was an mathematical one-in-a-billion gamble. 

“Cloak barriers up. Standby for further instructions,” Khan relayed to his android crewmates whom unquestioningly obeyed, none equipped to advise nor dispute his order, the ship’s outer shell hummed to life, making the entire vessel disappear into the endless night, the Vengeance disappeared from the Enterprise’s radar as his signal-reflectors went up enshrouding the warship in the same background shades as the galaxy’s pitch black void. 

“Scan for ion particles, energy readouts and radioactive traces,” Kirk leaned forward in his seat, his eyes watching the darkest shadows still eerily as if by some miracle the Vengeance would materialize and he would alas be able to see his enemy, the computer scanned erratically upon every nearby unoccupied surface beyond the Enterprise’s shields, fruitlessly beeping and again reading blindly for data from its previously set auto-lock mechanism as his ears started to pop, Kirk shouted another set of orders to the ship, “For the love of the Federation- Shutdown and lock damaged sectors - Reroute oxygen and conserve to twenty-percent output!” 

“Fire at will,” Khan said to the soundless humanoids populating the bridge, the white-alloy ship before him neither avoiding nor hailing him in defeat, he said flatly to the android stationed beside him at thruster control, “Do not engage in evasive maneuvers, give the human hope.” 

The Enterprise’s outer body exploded as the phasers tore it’s exterior apart, scattering white alloy debris about while the effected areas slowly recovered by the lagging shields, Kirk hung on, his fingers digging into the armrest, his heated sweat turning icy the more his explorer vessel shook and gave falling readings to his monitored stats. His ship took more shots than it deserved, the readouts on his screen blinked: Shields twenty-six percent, Radiation Damage seventy-four percent, Antigravity one-hundred percent, Engines ninety-seven percent, Core Health one-hundred percent, and Ship Sensory Health sixty-six precent. The Enterprise had no route of protecting herself nor escape if she was not to put down the Vengeance by sudden death, Kirk hated his odds, but it was worth a try. 

Each steadily dropped the longer he waited for the perfect moment to find Khan and get his plan into action, yet his scanners failed to lock unto the invisible Vengeance, he gave an order, “Connect manual target lock on screen!” 

He unbuckled himself from the seat and carefully made his way past the desk and latched himself unto the glass surface stretched across the deck, he rubbed his hands together in attempt at creating enough heat and sweat to grip himself to the glass, he circled the erratic phaser pulses at least needing an extra 2:3 as opposed to the surface ratio of the Enterprise which was one-third the surface area of the Vengeance, he manually drew a diagram guessing the shape and mechanisms behind the Vengeance: the upper deck of the command station would surely be heavily armored, the battle stations were also more than adequate in firepower also in defense, he had no time to figure out the drives and beacons used to generate the shields, he instead deduced the engine room to be the most vulnerable. He quickly brought up the logs of available weapons aboard the Enterprise: Phasers damaged, only two hydrogen-based antiballistic charges, one functional and the other defective. A lifetime seemed as if to pass, the ship tossed him about before Kirk formulated a plan: 

“Divert shield energy to battle stations energy reserve - Auto-lock the Baronet antiballistic charge to the central concentration of oncoming fire, four degrees reevaluated vertical - Deploy!” he shouted over the crashing phaser fire over the Enterprise’s vulnerable outer alloy, the shields stripped to be converted into energy, the ship scanner locked unto Kirk’s diagram after a few adjustments due to impact, the first defective charge struck beneath the hull, effectively shattering the cloaking barrier, the Vengeance now in full view had the Enterprise’s aim locked unto the engine room, after deploying, Kirk shouted his orders, “- Divert remaining energy to thrusters - Engage warp five to Federation Neutral Borders on my count!” 

It was wise to command maximum warp speed, but Kirk glanced to the damage on the Vengeance, first the black-alloyed engines floated away detached from the main sector of it’s vessel, the two charges flared the brightest light akin to a meteor burning through the atmosphere, the Vengeance’s dilithium core exploded in a blue atomic radiation wave, the dilithium surges rippling to the very corners of the galactic void, the second wave approached the Enterprise, seeming as if to violently shred the outer alloys of the Enterprise. 

“In Five - Four - Three-!” Kirk counted down to warp, the coordinates already in place as he watched from his window, the Vengeance at first lay motionless, the lower hull and engine room collapsing inward only to glow threateningly; he glanced to the ship as it turned towards the set coordinates, the Vengeance gave one final defeated roar ending in Kirk’s countdown, “Two - One - Engage!”

The ship forced both gravity and velocity at the speed of light times his own weight, knocking him back unto the desk the absent Sulu and Pavel shared, he picked himself up from the floor as soon as his nerves relayed pain and pride through his body, he ignored the bruise on his arms and at the back of his head to comm Starfleet Command, and tell the entire Earth of his success. He sat back on the chair and brought up Starfleet on screen, the view instantly flashed to Kirk’s officers standing alongside the forms of his former captain Pike and a sneering Marcus, Kirk saluted to the priceless horror of Doctor McCoy ready to shout a ‘Dammit, kid! Get yourself to medical bay!’ 

“Captain James Kirk,” Marcus acknowledged the captain whom sat aboard the Enterprise bruised and brimming with immodesty, “I was wrong about you. Yet hijacking the Enterprise while you were grounded for conspiring with your officers to publicize confidential information pertaining to trades between higher Starfleet officers and ‘Out-Worlders’, I commend you.” 

“Glad that you can see things my way, admiral Marcus. See to it that my command of this ship is reinstated and my officers are no longer incarcerated, then maybe we can talk in a more peaceful fashion,” Kirk shrugged, scratching at a bruise forming on his right brow as he jumped at a crashing sound, deducing it was maybe some of the damaged alloys detaching itself from the ship, “Have me linked worldwide. Now.” 

“As you please, captain Kirk,” Marcus nodded to one of the officers currently tinkering offside with a networking satellite, finally giving the go ahead, “You are now live, captain Kirk. Please leave out the dirty details of my business, and I’ll leave out yours.” 

“Stardate twenty-two-fifty-nine seventy-five, this is your captain of the USS Enterprise captain James Tiberius Kirk speaking,” Kirk spoke, his voice unbroken as he pushed all his animosity for the admiral Marcus through his words - evidence compiled by his crew and himself for months after his mess on his last world-saving mission, he found some rather Questionable things pertaining not only to Marcus, but also to hidden factions of Starfleet as well, “As of eleven months from today, it has been brought to my attention that our admiral Marcus and our Starfleet Command was nothing more than a front, disguising itself as the peacekeeper of our galaxy and the surrounding homes of our exotic neighbors. We came under attack by unknown sources by ‘Out-Worlders’ those resembling our own, who they are? I haven’t got a clue. Why they - excuse me- He attacked, there is still no reason known to me or by most of the officers of Starfleet, nothing to us is clear except his dire intent of destroying Starfleet’s space exploration program. -” 

“On the other hand-” Khan slipped his hands around Kirk’s shoulders, easily swiping his right hand across his neck and snapping his spine in two, both damaging the nerves and rendering Kirk with an agonizing brain hemorrhage, the human’s eyes clicking and tracing the passing stars beyond the glass as Khan crushed his neck, the human slumping aside as he laid the body away from the chair upon the floor, he stepped over Kirk’s unresponsive body, taking the seat and testing the cushion upon his spine and shoulder blades, his steel-gray eyes came to rest on the lenses projecting his answer to all of Earth’s nine-billion viewers worldwide, “I am merely curious of Starfleet’s private warfare sector.” 

\---

-1984 AD- 

“It’s a miracle how much of Khan’s genes we’ve managed to salvage, doctor,” a nurse marveled, her fingers tracing along a glass tube housing a transparent fetus inside synthetic embryonic fluids, she went to the monitor trained to three-dimensionally map the fetus, “He is perfect, so completely human-like.” 

“Doctor Mana,” a doctor said, addressing the otherworldly being at his side in a white lab coat and collar tethered firmly to his neck, “Humor me a moment.” 

Doctor Mana blinked his five black teardrop-shaped eyes leading from a nearly nonexistent nose beneath a short wave of black flesh-hair, his mouth housing several pairs of upper and lower fangs and razor-like teeth, his dangerously pale dull blue leathery skin stretched over an elongated carbon-seeming bone structure wrapped with columns of flexible muscle, he stood nearly two-hundred-twenty-two centimeters high next to the human doctors whom regarded him wearily. 

“What if we were to wipe the entire genetic slate clean and give a human structure to the rest of the crew?” the human doctor asked, brushing his fingers over the developing infant’s tube, his eyes tracing to those of Doctor Mana whom seemed offended of the very idea of recreating his captain in Human form, “So as you’ll be easily accepted as Human, seeing as your home world is barren and in a state of evaporation.” 

“How ever kind your offer, Doctor Bastian, my crew is in no mood at the moment to be mere copies and forget their lineage,” Doctor Mana’s voice was a neutral tone between both a sonic boom and a high frequency undertone learned to speak slowly for human ears, he growled as a prod stuck his elbow, “We are a proud inhabitance of the striving Novalith system. None of the crew agrees to utilizing themselves permanently ‘Extraterrestrial Refugees’.” 

“A shame it is if Starfleet allows you to revert back to your savage ways destroying planets and purging their civilizations,” Doctor Bastian said, taking into account the recovered footage of killing sprees erupting on all corners of space, pointing to one group of captured beings, “Morally, I am obligated to feel disgust and saddened by your previous lives, being that most of the worlds you destroyed were potential allies of Earth and the Federation.” 

“We had both extremities of our brains to thank for our actions: the nodes adept to fueling our primal instincts and the integral capacity for intelligence,” the Shiva Ra’s chief medical executor vocalized perfectly, he grew to hate the Earth-Humans more the longer he paced Starfleet Headquarters’ Medical Sciences branch, he was counting unto his seventeenth year of wallowing in human narcissism and the illusion of peace ‘won’ through bloody wars with each other, “What would you have done if it were in your Genes to merely think and destroy without the reprieve of uncommon basic integrity for the enemy, the stranger amidst a warring region of savages. We are all unthinking beasts you and I; born, bred, raised, praised, fed, famished, utilized and compromised. Is it not in human nature to choose Not to follow their own moral code of ethics upon meeting strange neighbors upon the same planetoid surface within their scope, whereas the Shiva Ra encounters those from different galaxies and diverse backgrounds? Is it not in human nature to question not only ones’s self but another and find each other’s differentiation, leading to one’s death or the others’ termination? Our awareness to break from primal instincts out of necessity occurred earlier in our organic mutagenic progression, unlike the millions of Earth years it took for your species to complete a simple thought.” 

“Humanity has come a long way from hairy stump-faced primates to the advanced civilization that we are today,” Doctor Bastian stood lost in his own praise for Humanity’s never-ending strive toward peace, happiness and touched always by killings of conquering pride, “War is peacefully resolved by speaking their mind, enemies are seen as brothers, we are a world striving toward peace.” 

“Yet you find yourselves on the verge of tearing your own planet to pieces for reasons many and unknown on Humanity’s part,” Doctor Mana drew from a case inside his pocket a hypo-syringe due for final preparations, he injected into an artificial feeding line wired into the fetus, “Factors vary, I understand, but a heap of excuses does not give humans the right to force us into suppressions merely on grounds of our uninhibited intelligence, our unwillingness to answer you the title you humans obsess akin to war’s spoils.” 

Doctor Bastian readjusted his glasses, chuckling to his colleagues of such a terrible assumption from that of another species, “And what title is that, doctor?” 

“You’ll be sorely disappointed by my maladroitness, the name is likely synonymous with shackles and the ritual killing of a servant,” Doctor Mana continued to inject vitamins and other supplements into the created human fetus, he looked over his shoulder to the forms staring up at him inquisitively and curious of his words, “My orders are clear as acting captain, doctor Bastian:-” 

“Inferiority breeds weakness-” Doctor Mana quoted a once well-known general in their long and proud history upon the undiscovered galaxy, he stepped back to look at Khan’s vital readings, “Terminate weakness whereupon it generates.” 

“Doctor!” a nurse, one of many shouted, bringing the attention of the small congregation to her screen where statistic readings soared in nearly all fields of health, “The fetus is showing signs of brain activity. Dopamine and serotonin levels are increasing, brain activity is also rising and maintaining abnormal rates. The fetus is awake!” 

“Extraordinary, and not even into his first week of developing a brain or eyes and already, he takes to his third trimester like a natural,” the human doctor approached the glass womb, again adjusting his glasses before seeing the tiny fetus quiver, “Comm Starfleet, tell them our little genius is ready for a bigger room to play.” 

Doctor Mana approached the glass tube, pressing his six fingers to the glass as he said, “Forgive me, captain.” 

“Harnessing Khan’s ability merely by imprisoning him in an infant’s body is no more foolish than bottling the energy of an asteroid’s speed in a plastic tube,” Doctor Mana paced to the computer at his side where he kept all documents of his research and formulas for creating artificial life, he punched in his password sequence as a beeping erupted upon Khan’s vital monitors, “Surely we can die honorably if not in forced captivity.” 

“Doctor Bastian, his vitals are dropping!” the nurse shouted, she ran to the test tube where the dormant infant floated in sporadic throes of finally realized pain, “We’re losing Khan! His brain activity is slipping! His heart rate is declining!” 

“Double dosage of epinephrine, get his vitals back on line!” Doctor Bastian ordered to his small army of medical caretakers, each took up doses of epinephrine while the vitals quickly fell to a weak diagram of receding drawings of lonely spikes and falling slopes. 

“Doctor, his immune system is attacking the serotonin and epinephrine; Khan is going into shock!” a nurse informed Doctor Bastian whom desperately pleaded the infant to live, the monitor beeped a long running flatline, only a few minor peaks which then became nothing more than a straight shot amidst disappearing scans, brain activity once healthy took an unending dip off the charts, the nurse whispered in disbelief, “He’s gone.” 

Doctor Mana calmly deleted all files related to Khan’s regeneration processes; from conception and creation, alas those of genetic blueprints and genetic palettes; if they were never to be free, then Doctor Mana decided it was best to not pretend Starfleet had an unknown virus implanted in his marrow, the virus slowly eating him away and turning him into dead tissue from his very organs. He felt weak, knowing he had no chance of fighting off all of Starfleet, maybe taking down a million would be easy, yet to the five-billion and counting in population, he was outmanned, outmatched and completely responsible to instead be induced in a frozen coma by his own creation. 

“You wanted a monster? Wake him and watch him take over the galaxy as he’s once done before,” Doctor Mana disconnected the glass tube from the useless machine, he draped his lab coat over the tube in a last act of kindness to his captain, “I would calmly rejoin my crew in cryostasis, if you would show me my end of our agreement?” 

“The deal was to ‘recreate Khan and synthesize his birth’,” the human paced about underneath the otherworldly medical chief, on the verge of shouting, but remembered quickly how unresponsive Doctor Mana was to raises in vocal volume, which he instead shouts back and damages the others’ eardrums in the process. 

“-‘And in the event that he is unable to awaken, I am to be imprisoned with the Shiva Ra’s crew until further notice’,” Doctor Mana cradled the tube protectively from the human nurses and doctors, he pushed the humans away easily and continued to hold his respected commanding officer, tears welled unable to hold themselves back, he wept hot acidic phosphorus tears yet was just as angry in allowing Earth Humans to tamper with his captain’s identity, “My loyalty runs deep, doctor. You see that I am unfazed by retaining the lives of my crew, you cannot threaten me with your pitiful torture devices and thiopental sodium inoculation procedures to appeal to my primal state of self-preservation instincts nor the very likelihood of producing an extreme emotional reaction to your threatening my crew. You cannot influence me, I just wished to apologize to my superior before benevolently taking his life and giving you reason to take ours’ of the Shiva Ra. We are an eminent threat to your existence.” 

“Then you are relieved of your duties-” Doctor Bastian gave the order to have the other-worlder paralyzed by a radioactive pulse set to Doctor Mana’s vertebrae, the body fell with a deafening thud all the while the human gave quickly-noted orders to his staff, “Take DNA samples from the rest of the crew, shut down their life supports, we begin with clean RNA slates after Doctor Mana is reborn. Whatever you do; Romulan, Klingon, Andorian and Vulcan trait palettes are forbidden to constitute Doctor Mana. Design a multi-functional central processing unit separately from all our own computers, convert Doctor Mana’s memory into visual and audio feeds primarily as part of his database.” 

“What if he retains emotional attachment to all the events conspired?” a nurse asked. 

“I want a team of psychologists to review his memories and have a full AI written for differentiating emotion upon Others, utilize protocol dictating his actions:-” Doctor Bastian answered easily, he paced out of the medical facility to get his findings reconstructed from their mishap moments ago, “ ‘Data, probability and logic are the only ways to employ known aspects; all emotional awareness are those of the organic nature’; build a separate system written specifically for following orders and calculating anything beyond Starfleet-related.” 

He turned back, giving one last morsel of information to his busy staff members already crowding about the machines, “In short: give Doctor Mana no reason to exist than only to serve.” 

-1985 AD- 

Khan opened his eyes, at first surveying the warm room and surrounding faces in hushed conversation only amplified as they saw him blink, he floated curiously as his body moved, bubbles and fetal liquids surrounding him in a perfect twenty-three degrees Celsius, he felt his eyelids lightly brush and press against one another for the first time, seeing the world around glaringly shadowed and enshrouded in lit figures. He reached for the glass only to get partway before finding he was tethered in place by two tubes running from his stomach and lungs to an overhead tank of liquid supplement and oxygen, there was nothing in his mind but the urge to reach beyond and take hold of his life he once had. His mind pieced itself back together, memory by memory, slowly as if he were recalling the vague emotion before reaching a prominent pinnacle within deciding how he felt at the moment, no word in any language but his own could accurately describe the poignant ‘in between’ storm of sensation erupting in his waking mentality. 

Complete serenity laced inside absolute anger, horror outlining the absence of refuge, cold darkness surrounded by a blinding light, intangible nobility within uncontrollable depravity, yet there was no confusion of Whom he was for what seemed as if it were countless lifetimes ago, his life lived to exhaustion and unable to recall his own death, the sting lay within his fingertips as to understand wholly How events came to be, as if there were fragments of himself missing in a parallel universe he had yet to discover. Everything leading up to this moment was mixed, yet they fit together perfectly in a distorted manner, if only Khan knew by which order to piece the events and memories back together with, he would have done so if it were not for the many questions and people prodding him with inquisitive fingers, prying eyes, running mouths saying words too fast to understand. Yet Khan understood perfectly that he was Not one of those two-legged hominids poking at his see-through embryo, he was far from Human, and they still each treated him like a pet. 

It was until a face he saw once came into view, that of Doctor Bastian, a little older, perhaps hopefully a lifetime wiser, most definitely as sadistic as any Human came within range of holding power over life and death. Khan despised Doctor Bastian, but the man was kind enough to hush everyone down, dim the lighting and put the bright monitors on hibernate, he approached in his white lab coat, swaggering like a seasoned breeder during a mating ritual. 

Doctor Bastian reached out to the tube, whispering as a proud parent does, “Hello, my son.” 

Khan blinked again, inducing many nurses and doctors in a swoon as his eyelashes touched skin and slowly rose, revealing the most perfect set of eyes the exact color of frozen iron, he felt not in the least welcome, rather as an exotic being usually does when being brought unto lands not their own, he was alone, isolated from his own species not that he was in his former species - he was a stranger to both worlds, neither Human, no longer a being of the Novalith system. In Human guise, he was invisible to everyone ignorant to his lineage, he feigned tentativeness at approaching the glass, appearing as if he were half afraid of the new world, instinctively shy and completely curious, he reached out his tiny hands to that of Doctor Bastian, his own palms dwarfed by the fully-aged Human standing before him. 

Doctor Bastian said smilingly, “Welcome to Earth.” 

The rest of his stay in the embryo was spent educating him in Human ways via audio feed connected to his tube, teaching from reading and speech to mathematics, his second trimester in a whirlwind of Human literature and theories, his third trimester summarized in both deep thought and self-reflection to his plan on avenging his crew. 

-1990 AD-

Only four years and Khan was at the top of his class in flight engineering, yet was able to ‘work around’ the advanced programming of the Kobayashi Maru, competent enough to fight the enemy warships but completely failing to achieve his objective when he destroys the Federation vessel rather than saving the inhabitances, he understood orders and still was ‘curious’ of the outcome when he tested the Kobayashi Maru’s shield resilience. Nevertheless, Doctor Bastian was proud of the child’s developing intellect, praising and examining closely the widening margins between his own high-IQ students and Khan, which he steadily drifted farther away from rather than reaching a cerebral plateau as most human students do. Humanity was a sedentary stage in Khan’s young pseudo-life as he was released from Starfleet Natural Sciences Sector at the human age of three, already the budding weapons prodigy formulated his plan of escape while in their care, yet they were dashed the moment he met someone quite familiar and a parallel farce of an officer he once knew. 

“My optical appendages ache, father,” Khan spoke, his voice hardly used and at least several decibels higher, considerably deeper and rich, his words perfectly pronounced and equally measured, he kept his eyes shut yet was very aware of the general direction they were headed: beeping instead of clanging, a few squeaks of shoes on linoleum-coated flooring, the scent close to newly-melted plastic and tinged with burned welding rods, they were headed somewhere Khan had never been before. 

“No peeking, John,” Doctor Bastian walked him to the cybernetics section of Starfleet, placing him upon a pedestal as he said to the very anxious young Khan, “Now you can look.” 

Before him stood a primitive hydraulic-powered skeleton covered haphazardly from the shoulder down in a reflective covering, the facial features blanched in their non-pigmented state, Khan rose from his seat in the far corner, his mind already piecing where he recognized the face from, the humanoid spoke to him flatly, “Happy birthday, Master John.” 

“Hello-” Khan glanced at the tag on the humanoid’s casing, he read steadily before his voice had the chance to waver in just-realized sorrow, “ ‘Mana’.” 

“Isn’t he wonderful, John? He’s the first of his kind; a robotic human,” Doctor Bastian lifted a rewritten card form its casings to John whom at first inspected the plastic slide, a name monogrammed on the face just above a barcode ‘Property of John Bastian’ , “He is made especially with you in mind.” 

“It is an interesting item of practical use,” Khan made a show of inspecting the robotic human, and resorted to placing a ladder behind the human robot, sliding the card into the port behind a layer of light brown Ersatz-hair follicles, he went to Doctor Bastian’s side and allowed the slightest bit of faux affection leak into his words, “I am grateful, father. Thank you.” 

“I’m sorry for not being around for you all the time, so here you are with your own friend,” the human doctor knelt to the child’s level, brushing his hand through the black hair and kissing him between the withdrawn grey eyes, he smiled to the boy and took him by the hand as he stood, “He might prove to be your best friend yet.” 

“Doctor Mana is to my liking, father,” Khan led the doctor to the robotic human, his mind snapping on the defensive and voice bordering the most innocent sweetness he mastered to work his childish allure upon many a human nursing an emotional weakness of the heart, “May I have the liberty to take him as he is?” 

“Your robot is a little naked, son,” Doctor Bastian answered, his laugh lines ridged at the corners of his eyes and the chuckle in his wonder all the more spurring Khan. 

“I am aware,” he answered, his eyes just watering on the lashes and completely softening the human’s resolve against leading home the nude robot, he blinked a pair of clear tears, “He might prefer our home to this cold laboratory. Do you, Mana?” 

“Where ever you prefer is where I prefer, Master John,” Mana answered, the underlining high frequency as he pronounced the sounds of vowels were ever present, Khan remembered that of his old friend Doctor Mana whom now inhabited a machine and he himself inside a weaker, lesser form of his own previous body. What Doctor Bastian did to Mana was unforgivable. 

Doctor Bastian stayed in the laboratory while Khan was escorted out with his friend-turned-mechanical Mana, without prompting nor fighting his emotional backlash, Khan took Mana by the hydraulic-boned hand and freely allowed himself, putting up the front of being a helpless child whom needed affection and attention in equal doses. Though his fourth birthday was uneventful, he was evermore grateful that he was spending it with a friend rather than the hated doctor whom trapped him inside his protein-based body. Doctor Bastian’s home was simple, a three bedroom flat overlooking San Francisco Starfleet Headquarters, the walls filled with books a single entertainment center and Khan’s bedroom having none of the typical child’s paraphernalia, instead opting for a computer, a single-sized bed, his only clothing being those of tailored Starfleet academy uniforms, thousands of neatly ordered books, a Starfleet-grade tool set, plasma cutter and welding kit. 

He pulled off the sheet from Mana’s body, exposing more bulky hydraulics Khan grinned, not the reassuringly loveable-type he uses in front of his adoptive father, the kind which once struck fear into rival nations and species’ across the galaxy, he powered up his soldering iron and welder, first laughing to his friend whom stood indifferently and asking almost automatically, “What seems to be so entertaining, Master John?” 

“Primitive Human-thinking, Mana,” John answered as he took in hand the plasma cutter and began his long arduous work, “When we are alone, you refer to me as ‘Khan’ and you answer to either ‘Mana’ or ‘Doctor Mana’. Is that understood, Mana?” 

The next few words shocked Khan to his core, shaking the foundation for which nearly a hundred years of trust and friendship was built upon, “What ever you prefer, …Khan.” 

The day seemed as if to crawl by in an extended instantaneous time continuum-like state of tastelessly soul-killing rotation of worn out patterns which Humans deemed ‘normal’, ‘everyday’, and ‘pleasant’. Khan ignored the outside sounds jovially announcing a new day in midst of reaching its pinnacle, he continued to give Mana a fully functional carbon-titanium alloyed skeletal structure, yet no ‘flesh’ inner workings of refurbished circuits traded out for new circuit boards and the never-ending path of electric conductors in charge of commanding movement. He sickened himself of how he hungered for a conversation, not one consisting of childish bragging nor a topic surrounding ‘what are you going to be when you grow up?’ His first answer was to be a Starfleet officer, it mattered not which as long as he was a part of the scheme that held his crew captive, he cared only for all their safety and finding them to remind each how sorely the were mistreated: Wholly Dishonorably and punishable by death. The otherworlders they used to be opted for a fight to the death or death without dishonor nor cowardice, neither was given to them as an option, to the death seemed a very real possibility yet. 

“Mana,” Khan looked up from Mana’s shoulder as he continued to route circuits throughout the alloy limbic system, concentrating on areas needing both flexibility and mobility in terms of movement and reflex. 

“Yes, Khan,” Mana answered yet kept his gaze straight ahead, both mind and memory unreachable as to recall whom they once were, nearly brothers and other times friends whom took comfort merely in conversation, his eyes once dark yet seeming as if to hold a star’s warmth. 

“Talk to me, Mana,” Khan said, turning the face to him, the blanched orbs were void of wonder, nostalgia, remembrance, and replaced by two flat optical scanners the flattest shade of green which had no personality integrated as naturally as they had previously been. Khan decided then to kill Doctor Bastian first. 

“What is there to be said?” Mana asked. 

“Tell me of how the Humans have been treating you while I was indoctrinated into their society,” Khan answered, he then pushed his magnifying lenses closer to the spine of his robotic human, putting minor touches on the coiling disks which served to allow maximum movement to the robot, he etched in wires and soldered them together, creating an operational ‘electronic nervous system’ , “You can tell me, old friend.” 

“Little has happened aside from the advance in robotics and your birth,” Mana answered haltingly as if his CPU were too slow and running too much information at the same time to make a smooth sentence of nearly nothing, his ear sparked a tiny pop of electricity from ‘thinking’ too hard, “Nothing more seems relevant to your question.” 

“Mana, find it within yourself to recall our friendship. Remember the name ‘captain Khan Noonien Singh’ and ‘Doctor Mana’ ,” Khan peeled back the latex covering of Mana’s cheek, he unscrewed half of the alloy faceplate until he carefully picked through facial disks aligning the cheek with a tweezer and his soldering iron, he fixed the fuse by replacing it with a new high-capacity microprocessor, he snapped the disks back into place, screwing the bulky slides back into place and unrolled Mana’s latex ‘skin’ back over his face, “Again, what has been done to you while I was conceived?” 

“I am forbidden by my written protocols of allowing you or anyone else besides Doctor Bastian the information which you request. My apologies, Khan,” pleasingly, Mana’s answer was longer, more efficiently worded and understandable, yet Khan was still dismayed at the reply to his question; he suddenly felt the weakness of being Human and emotionally fatigued along with his tiny strength, he pattered down from the ladder set against Mana’s back, he flopped down on his bed and peeled off his gloves, his goggles hanging around his neck, “I do recall the Shiva Ra-III.” 

Khan shot up, trusting his old friend’s memory, he stood before the hulking form which shadowed his own threefold, wondering in all his rebirths when and where luck had alas shown him mercy. 

“Yes, I was your Captain and you were my Chief Medical Executor,” Khan lent his own recollection which only seemed as if to feed Mana’s visual and audio retention of lifetimes long passed, he urged, “Doctor Mana, we served aboard for nearly an eon and some, do you remember?” 

“My recollection is off-color, but my data is running through some seemingly exciting endeavors we had once experienced,” Mana answered simply. 

“It pleases me you have not forgotten, Mana,” Khan allowed himself a rare smile, the rarest of true happiness shining through him, but quickly died when reality came pounding the back of his head in a headache, “What became of our crew?” 

“All seventy-one are awakened,” Mana took only two seconds to answer, “Each has been adopted into homes of Starfleet employees.” 

“How do we escape, Mana?” Khan went to his desk where he had drawn digital blueprints of Mana’s structure and several of new ships he had been thinking of, he pulled one up under a file named ‘Vengeance’ , “How do we get home?” 

“The Human Civilization as we now understand is not advanced enough to transport us to our previous destination by current ships, their power cells will die out while we have only completed twenty percent of the journey,” Mana answered, no longer pausing to structure a complete reply, unhindered by his old CPU, “If my calculations are correct, another five decades will yield mechanical efficiencies, perhaps adequately enough for our endeavors. Is the answer satisfactory, Khan?” 

“Only until it becomes a reality,” Khan pulled down his goggles in renewed determination and turned on the welder. 

-2000 AD- 

Earth had suddenly welcomed the Space Age with open arms, open wallets and morbid prophecies of the ‘Coming’, of whom, Khan did not know, yet in anticipating so, he assisted welcoming the first Betazoid ship to touch down on Earth along with his commanding officers Matsuzuki Sulu, Commander Rory, Chief Medical Doctor Bastian and a fully serviceable android assistant Mana 2.5 at his side. The humans’ minds were easily read by the Betazoids, and his own remained shrouded in a fog of incurable tragedy, some even intentionally avoiding him to keep themselves from suddenly weeping mindlessly, or the latter trying to find his potential as a telepath, not a single trace was calculated on Khan’s ability to relay anything he could not narrate vocally than willing himself mentally. His mind was a raging torrent yet energetic and silent as Mana’s own quietly working microprocessors. 

“Doctor Bastian,” a Betazoid captain pulled the human doctor aside from the small congregation trading knowledge and small pleasant thoughts to one another, Doctor Bastian followed the newly acquainted captain to another side of the docking hangar and listened intently to the very gentle speech of the female captain, “Your child is very troubled, we find his hostility highly equal to that of a species we Betazoids were once acquainted with.” 

Doctor Bastian’s eyes widened only in interest for the fact of his adoptive son’s true identity may come under scrutiny, and possibly even hostility the more he left the captain to ponder on a subject that was mostly forgotten, most traces of information stored away under security, “And whom might that be, Captain Seldrun?” 

“I cannot be sure, there seems to be a conflict within, perhaps only a Vulcan may be able to understand him better,” her speech was in the mind lest they be heard by other humans or those whom listened primarily by their external hearing organs, “Has he come in contact with a Vulcan?” 

“No, we have a few circulating Starfleet as civilians, but I can’t say we were able to meet any personally,” Doctor Bastian replied even while the captain continued to survey him for stray thoughts, he said with honesty as she had detected, “He is a remarkably bright boy, very obedient and respectful. John plans to become an officer in Starfleet’s exploration and sciences sector.” 

“Maybe there is nothing amiss,” she hesitantly answered through unmoving lips, she vocalized her best wishes upon the budding officer in training, “I hope he becomes a great officer.” 

“There’s not a doubt in my mind of his potential, Captain Seldrun,” Doctor Bastian nodded to her in formality as she drifted slowly back to her crew, once in a moment glancing at the young man vigilantly witnessing the mostly silent congregation taking place, to his side was an android in dark formal wear, their eyes met, the gray eyes feeling as if to freeze out the entire room until only Khan and Captain Seldrun inhabited the area, she reached out with her mind only to reel back, a twisted barb of tragedy stuck like a thorn in her emotional cortex, Khan’s snake-like smirk was the last thing she saw before being wheeled into medical bay. 

\---

Kirk gasped, his chest feeling full and his pectorals pulsating a soft warmth as Khan continued rubbing the tips of his nipples, thumb and middle finger pinching the surrounding pink areolas, and forefinger whispering teasingly over the reddened sensory-filled tips, his voice low and half-sobbed as his captain soothingly licked the tears from his cheeks, kissing under his ear and jaw, upper lip whispering over his hairline. The sensation of the thick cock withdrawing from his spread cheeks was almost too much to bear, he clamped his teeth shut and leaned his nose into Khan’s neck, the intolerable shame enflaming his cheeks, his closed fists shook inside the shackles still tethered firmly to the bar, and felt himself melt, his skin burning against Khan’s, his body all the more leaking steadily, hungrily. His voice was heard, thoroughly appreciated and noted the more vocal he became, once in a while being caught off guard by a bitingly hard pinch to his nipples, his whimpers hitched only to die down into heated gasps as once more they were gently tugged by the pulsing skin. 

The tiniest of cries made it’s way to Khan’s ears, though it was quiet, nearly just a mixture of needy sounds and obscured by Kirk’s humiliated sobbing, Khan heard every pained shame-ridden syllable that made his pulse pause for a moment as the reddened lips whimpered all too indistinctly, “-please…I need it…please-!” 

Khan pulled away only a touch from laving Kirk’s jawbone and cheeks, his gaze contemplative and thoughts completely thrown off course as he took in the blue eyes pleading timidly for mercy, he himself was in the slightest offended and maybe just a touch disappointed, but not entirely upset with the outcome, Khan flipped the human around until they were face to face, Kirk’s wrists twisted around inside the tangled cuffs, the human jerked himself out of the hold on his hips, backing up and cracking Khan soundly in the face with his shin, he bared his teeth and growled. Khan’s smirk broke unto his face, thinking Kirk was too cleaver and wholesome for the delicious caress of his sympathy, wicked and needless as it was, Khan admired the quality in the human: fighting to the very end and maybe beyond what he was capable of mortally. His eyes glowed, from grey to the lightest shade of blue, the color of charged photon bursts, Kirk visibly reeled back, crawling unto the head of the medical bed until his soaked bottom and back stood trapped against the cool wall, the bar again being gripped by white-knuckled hands and those same hands clicking against the cuff ends. Khan crawled from the padded end he occupied on all fours, his fingers taking their time leading his right arm upon the soaked memory foam and soft neoprene sheath. 

As the pale fingers slid teasingly over first Kirk’s left foot, he pushed himself off the wall with his right and struck again at Khan’s head only to have his ankle caught in a firm grip, he did the same with his right, swiping his knee at his captain’s ribs and abdomen, but again lay motionless until his legs were wrapped around the captain’s lower torso, his nerve endings urged him to give and submit, his instincts trumped the pitiful whimper in his throat which in turn became an angered growl reverberating inside his throat. His teeth bared and his body unwilling to accept his fate, he twisted in Khan’s grip, gnashing his teeth and hissing as his captain’s face came close, only sufficiently to watch the blue eyes betray the wild attempts at intimidation, he bucked and writhed to again hinder his unpromising end, hopefully enough to bore his captain, to be left alone naked while the ship stayed on course to the human colony of Terademe. He unhooked his legs from Khan’s hips and crossed them over his sopping entrance, effectively stopping Khan dead in his conquest even if it was for a moment, Kirk was grateful enough to have distracted his captain enough to open his mouth and latch his teeth unto Khan’s left shoulder, his jaws working again to draw blood or to at least cause Some harm. 

Khan had no aspiration to claim the human as his newly evolved form dictated, but now a new hunger beyond that to simply satisfy himself in Kirk’s body had awakened; at first a dull throb in his gums made him more aware of the budding fascination, suddenly becoming an itching throb in his nerves wrapped around his gums and teeth as he licked over his lips at the sight of Kirk’s wild pulse covered by a thin layer of twitching muscle, flexing tendons and lightly perspring skin, he swallowed the perfumed oxygen and reached around Kirk’s shoulder with his left hand and grabbed the immobile left arm suspended tightly against the bar, he again licked the exposed flesh of Kirk’s throat, catching the teeth with his right hand, his digits firmly cradling the chin as he once more pressed his tongue to the erratic pulse thumping against his teeth and tongue, his lower lip enclosing against his ear as he began at the bottom. His lips pressed to the sweat-misted clavicle, and against the wild pulse seducing his teeth to mark the skin permanently, yet the crushed whimpers of his officer erupting next to his ear cleared him of this forceful and self-betraying victory, something in him urged him to calm Kirk again, to somehow make the experience less uncongenial if not painful. And he fell, the helix of his DNA ingesting that of Kirk’s and melding, reestablishing itself around Kirk’s genetic fluids, then breaking down, building itself to remember every facet of the human; every action recalled and stored away, every scent remembered and matching itself to his centripetal system, every bodily trace fluid absorbed and committed to memory as his half, the only thing left being his sign of ownership placed upon Kirk’s neck. 

Kirk bucked wildly against him, again giving Khan a wicked little idea, he slid off the bed, commanding the gaze of his officer upon him as he strode upon the floor, his boots hardly registering as a tap against the sanitized flooring, his fingers grazing the wall until he unhooked from a hanger yet another cuff and Kirk again backed himself up against the wall, shoulders bristling and teeth bared. Khan paced forward, elongating the moment between anticipation and inevitable defeat, his steps drawing nearer and again making Kirk all the more feral, the human’s eyes reduced to pinpricks, body backed up wholly against the wall, temper seething and skin burning all the more from unwanted lust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just when i thought there was no more plot...Dammit~!


	5. Hubris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to show that I haven't given up on this series... i tied to stop the Plot, but it just spilled out. XP

-2002 AD-

All the world was in turmoil; killing, ravaging, starving, suffocating itself to death; Khan watched from his bedside after finishing his assignments while Humanity mindlessly cannibalized itself, Mana once in a while asking questions neither of them could answer regarding the actions of the Humans. Why do they murder? Why so much carnage? Why compounds for the sake of destruction? Why such inhumanity? Khan could only sigh dismissively for such elusive answers vexed him, he neither thought nor found an inkling within himself to care for such pathetic creatures. 

Culture changed, technology once again advanced, rules changed, Humanity as a whole had changed, yet only Khan and Mana remained the exact same save for their gathering and growing knowledge, unable to derive pleasure from the increasing havoc, yet learned ever more and more of the Earth-Human’s limits of creating and threatening destruction about the tiny blue planet. Vulcans in human guise were unable to dissuade the tempers of humans, instead deciding to stand by merely as spectators than to participate in such a savage display of ‘humanly conduct’, as did the otherworldly neighbors whom were given no right to either calm nor take part in the ‘Human’s self-slaughtering fray’. Earth was in chaos undeniably closing in on its own self-destruction. 

“John,” Doctor Bastian called to Khan, the young man stood automatically from his bed upon hearing the doctor's voice and tread out from the closed door of his bedroom, arriving at the human doctor’s side, the doctor looked him up and down, “Sit down, John.” 

“Yes, father,” Khan took a seat next to his adoptive father, laying his hands at his side and focusing his gaze on a repeated headline on the plasma screen directly ahead of the couch, the bold red lettering reading ‘…Threatening Nuclear Attack…-’. Khan was by this point uncaring of whom overcame whom by means of either superior firepower or seemingly empty threats or by civil war, he merely sat back into the cushions in times his father had requested for him to ‘spend quality time’ with one another, he detected alcoholic vapors lacing air concentrated about Doctor Bastian, perhaps previously ingested fermented drink of the Humans; he wrinkled his nose for the unpleasant smell wafting to him. 

Doctor Bastian left Khan mostly alone, never questioning the young man’s urge to be by himself or to study in solitude, not able to see each other either until Doctor Bastian was allowed to go home or Khan was allowed to train alongside the older Starfleet academy students. It was also no secret how handsome the child had become, and he was ashamed for having housed such a taboo emotion for the young man soon after his fifteenth birthday. Khan, on the other hand, neither cared nor was aware of his captor’s regretful feelings toward him, he felt it was unwise to allow himself the pleasure of reveling in human emotion and at the same time poisonous to harbor such sentiments toward the enemy whom captured him in a body not his own. The next few minutes burned away the same as always, staring mutely at the screen and keeping to one’s self, observing and formulating personal opinions not to be shared except on their own, Khan grew tired of the repeated images and anticlimactic sequences of down-turning predictable moods, and ever more was he relieved that soon he would liberate himself and his crew of Earth's planet-wide debauchery. 

Khan gracefully stood from the couch, assessing the drunken state Doctor Bastian was in, he denoted quietly, “I will take my leave, father.” 

“John! John, wait,” the doctor reached for his hands, clasping him in a pair of clammy palms as he stared down into his adoptive father’s reddened eyes, he awaited the cause for his pause in their usual routine of leaving Doctor Bastian in his drunken state while he drew up more plans of his escape, the next series of words made him all the more curious of human emotions, “Do you love me? Don’t you love me at all? John?” 

“I have in my own way formed a familial bond to you, father,” Khan answered unmoved by the slurred speech, he detected a faint shakiness in his adoptive father's tone, he asked as logic dictated his ward's soundness of mind, “Am I not your son?” 

“Come here, John,” Doctor Bastian pulled his lean body forward, slightly with more pressure than he was accustomed to placed upon the small of his back as if gauging whether he was hesitant or afraid, Khan was neither as he stepped forward, as if being praised, the doctor whispered, “That’s a good boy.” 

“I am no longer a child. I-” Khan said flatly, pushing away Doctor Bastian's hands, yet before he was able to disengage himself from both his ward and the suddenly-suffocating tension, his arm was caught as was the scandalous palm kneading the upper half of his thigh, he hissed as a matter of factly, “You are legally bound by law to Never harass me this way!” 

“All I want is for you to love me, John!” the low broken tone in Bastian's voice manifested into a wounded howl, tears spilling out from the red-rimmed eyelids as the clumsy hand ventured higher along Khan's thigh and rested upon his lower hip in a sweaty grip, what little propriety Khan reserved of himself had then crumbled along with a hope he had of retaining the fostered vestal-quality the perfect childhood had provided him; the doctor fell at his feet and clawed at his back as if he were nothing more than a half-remembered breath of a dying man, the next succession of words rendered him stricken and revolted beyond repair for he knew doing so was the betrayal of whom he was before becoming the abomination of a being, “Love me, John! I’m dying for you to love me!” 

Khan's eyes widened in the slightest as he stared unmoving down at his foster father's shoulders which stiffened and shivered with choked sobs pouring in the very human dialect of sadness and hopelessness; posterity of the common modern family was one subject he had studied for years, and the dynamic being that since he was a child – he would be cared for by the breadwinner of the house he was taken into, that he would nether be treated with standardized affection and love but Not once would he feel the hand of malice nor abuse strike him, yet this new affliction which caught him within Doctor Bastian's arms was none of the other. It was depraved.

He was not at all dealt a blow being that he was a model child of obedience and an expert on common intergalactic civility, all and all, he knew instinctively that he was observing a new and perverse kind of forbidden emotional progression, one that was so well hidden and unspoken of that he was sure that he had never once come upon such an activity-anomaly personally more of his immediate surroundings, the suggestion placed upon his young brilliance hinted neither a kin's love nor innocent fondness, he tilted his head side to side as Doctor Bastian simpered into his Starfleet uniform and tore at the front closure of his uniform slacks, the voice changing from one of sadness to angered frustration, “You look at me all the time like I’m some kind of fucking disease! Like I’m somehow incapable of showing you True affection! I can love you like an adult, John! I Will love you like you're my son!” 

Frozen beneath Doctor Bastian's talon-like fingers, paralyzed in thought and deep contemplation, Khan stood in a daze wondering whether he was the root of his foster father's phalia or if he unknowingly triggered a certain sickness, so soon and deftly he stayed within Doctor Bastian's grasp, sensing below his chin the coldly damp fingers and bristly beard scratching his bare stomach, the action was brazen, fearless, completely foolish in Khan's eyes, he knew the human ideal of 'love' would never hold the textbook meaning again. 

“There, there, father…Do not think me an ungrateful child. Allow me to show you my appreciation…” he whispered through the alcoholic haze Doctor Bastian ingested, he glided the pads of his thumbs over his foster father's eyelids, prompting the dilated eyes closed, once achieving an unknowing and trusting state, he padded behind the human, observing the even breathes as he leaned down, “Relax, father. Leave yourself to me.” 

Not sparing a moment's rest, Khan wrapped his left leg around Doctor Bastian's neck, locking his left foot within the fold of his right leg which then became an immovable anchor behind the human's neck, he held fast, pushing all his weight forward into the carpeted floor, narrowly missing the coffee table where the phone and HQ radio sat, he squeezed harder, crushing the doctor's throat and catching the arms which flew up, the fingers scratching desperately at his ankles and knees, his body held fast, easily reducing the wet gargles. Khan felt no relief avenging himself and his crew, especially after suddenly tearing the delicate nervous system by twisting his body around full circle. There was too much at stake, far too much done to himself and his seventy-two crewmates, and very little could undo the damage done upon their derelict heritage, their stolen and rewritten past, he untangled himself from his foster parent, perching himself on the carpet in the faint light of the plasma screen, he stared into Doctor Bastian's bulging eyes, pondering the human's last thought before he halted the loud breathing and train of possibly-simple sentiments all of humanity was seemingly afflicted by, he sniffed the gratefully vapor-free air and was alerted by a voice coming from the corner of the room: 

“Khan,” Mana's digital vocals came clear across the dimly-lit room, disturbing the fuzzy movements of the plasma screen, Khan glanced up at his android-friend as they were both still in the state of divestment – since Khan had long ago required that Mana was to be treated as mortal – deciphering the lifeless green irises which glowed eerily within the gray shadows of the doorway, catching the slightest tick of his android-friend's optical movement, “Why did you kill Doctor Bastian?” 

“Why did you watch as he accosted me, Mana?” Khan inquired listlessly, turning his attention upon the terror-stricken bloated face of Doctor Bastian, he sensed a silent movement behind his body, Mana's obvious magnetic presence which had long lost its mystery and surprise the longer they were acquainted, he awaited his android's flat tone which remained ever so measured and free of emotion. 

His heart beat evenly just the same as Mana's electric pulses, he reminded himself of the ethical reasons why Earth-humans frowned upon the murder of their own species, some even going as far as supporting the act of justifiable revenge, Mana spoke over his shoulder, “Do you recall the story of your first successful conception, Khan?” 

“Every detail,” Khan answered, all too clearly were the images of his first birth into coherency; unable to will his young eyes to see past a hazy cloud of opaque red, there was also the subtle beeping-noises, the simple movement of doctors bustling about his artificial womb, down to the last sensation of nerve-tearing pain ripping through his body in the last spasms of his life; Every detail was a vivid memory second by second – sensation leaking through one another until both visuals and his five strengthened senses collided and blended, his mind reeled and recorded everything. 

“And my last action to reconcile the honor of our genus?” Mana continued as if Khan were merely a guest visiting over coffee, their entire ordeal felt as if it had been surreal, down to the mention of their species – almost as if Mana were coaxing out an answer rather forcefully than allowing Khan to speak freely, as if Mana had been given a deeper prerogative. 

“I do,” Khan answered unhindered by his senses which pricked at his self-preservation, yet he only wished to both rescue his crew and find their way home, he felt himself upon the opposition of his wishes. 

“Forgive me, captain,” Mana whispered, Khan sensed his mind screaming and preparing itself for the inevitable, yet he knew a day as such would come when the machine heeded it's creator's call, it's written core program. 

“Yes, dearest friend,” he answered solemnly, unable to react, a needle pricked beneath his skin, the plunger withdrew emptily as he fell weightlessly within Mana's awaiting arms. 

The day had come, Khan was neither human nor the being of his true birth, and no other was to be trusted but himself. Thusly, had the carefully cultivated grain of hope been stolen and the murderous rage within fed. 

-Stardate 2240.23- 

“This specimen-” an officer said, helpless against himself as he observed the young man from behind the protection of the reinforced two-way mirror, he was slightly taken aback from the information he read off from his PADD, “Khan Noonien Singh, alias ‘John’ - is too dangerous. He killed our leading scientist Doctor James Bastian from the biologies branch.” 

“Does he know his true name?” another officer asked, clearly peculiar of the newly-awakened boy whom had sat motionless from the bed and stared off into the blank white wall, his white hospital clothing hiding away the cryostasis-induced pallor of his skin. 

“Telling by what we've found in his computer and the android he calls 'Mana', we have more than enough reason to believe that the admiral is insane for thawing out thirty-six-kilos of crazy,” the medical officer answered, he studied the young man as if he could hear the bustling of thoughts raging like a storm or even counting the calm heartbeats beneath his chest. 

“Don't you have somewhere to be, officer?” a voice boomed calmly at the collective's side. 

“Admiral Marcus-!” the officer jumped from his revere, he quickly mumbled from beneath Admiral Marcus' gaze, “We meant nothing by-” 

“Report to med bay,” Admiral Marcus ordered, each gave him a timid 'yessir' before departing on their way, “I am of sound mind, officer.” 

Watching the boy whom looked nothing more than a child reminded him of his daughter, Carol; yet his mind saw an enemy where his eyes perceived a helpless human child, his eyes pierced the innocent veil of age and species until there sat a being as aggressive and more clever than a Romulan, little surprised him and even less fooled him in his advancement in age. The door slid open after he had entered his passkey, the young man sat as if he were frozen in time, neither acknowledging Admiral Marcus' presence nor giving a sign of coherency, the Admiral strode forward and cleared his throat. 

“Hello, John Bastian,” Admiral Marcus greeted, he noted the slow rise of John's chin as the former name was used, having the young man's attention, he then continued, “It seems we have Similar interests.” 

Hardly a second passed before the young man stated evenly and unmoved by the Admiral's presence, “I don't think so.” 

“Oh, yes, we do,” the Admiral answered, he strode around the young man until they looked eye to eye while he himself stood and John sat, he noticed the young man tethered in cuffs, wrist to wrist and ankles locked upon the floor, he suspected that John stayed seated and civil only by choice through mutual decision as if conserving the effort of exterminating a lesser being, “I expect you'll cooperate.” 

“Just as your 'Mana' android had done,” John's eyes became nothing more than slits at the mentioning of the aforementioned android, Admiral Marcus reached into his pocket and produced a small plastic slide which read just above the barcode 'Property of John Bastian', the boy's slender fingers enclosed the slide, the Admiral then produced an optical orb which was a familiar shade of bland green, “Scrapped, unfortunately. Your android was surprisingly useful in the early stages of developing our own robotics, we now need Your expertise in the fields you are most gifted in.” 

Through tight lips and a thin smile, John's low voice manifested into half-hearted words, “What might I assist you with?” 

“The warship you've dubbed 'Vengeance',” Admiral Marcus said, he resisted the urge to shake the boy in hopes of producing a nod or a word; Anything to show that he was affecting the young man, he instead refrained and said of the data Mana had once retained, “And many other brilliant undertakings of yours'.” 

A light disappeared as suddenly as it had shone in the steel blue of the boy's eyes, Admiral Marcus, taking the sign of the boy's placid nature as a show of good faith, passed the robotic optical orb across the table where John slid his long fingers over the cool orb, the boy's eyes not once leaving Admiral Marcus' as his pale fingers slid intimately on the unseeing eye clutched in his hands; the boy asked nervelessly, “What of my surviving seventy-two? How are they to be treated?” 

“Hearing of your open homicide of Doctor Bastian prompted the adoptive hosts to follow by your example and murder their own wards,” Admiral Marcus recounted the rebellion – leaving out the parts of where he had cleared the labs for testing upon the unsuspecting sleepers in the sciences sector, also the public debacle called 'Scandal Area-52' – he only mentioned the basics enough to ease John or more appropriately 'Khan', “They are currently held suspended in cryostasis just as you have been. Safe. Unharmed. Asleep.” 

Khan simply blinked, his pale fingers brushing over the optical orb's inner sensor and inner camera cable, he inquired flatly, “Asking for our freedom is out of the question, I understand?” 

“Not 'out of the question', merely 'out of reach',” Admiral Marcus stated, at once earning the boy's full attention, he noted the boy's rigid posture and a miniscule huff of interest, he gave the small lie of freedom and only he knew the half of his truth was the freedom through death, “Only through comprehensive obedient transparency and our joint quislingism are you granted leave from Earth. Upon completion, of course.” 

“Duly noted, Admiral,” Khan answered, though the boy was bright and deceitful, the Admiral found the boy as gullible as his age suggested, “Give me a warning before you extend our 'visit'.” 

“Absolutely, John,” Admiral Marcus shrugged as if hurt by the boy's sentiments, he whispered with the same intent of prodding the thoughts of his enemy, “The same courtesy, please, the moment you intend to stray from our agreement.” 

“I cannot promise you my loyalty, but I do give my word that I will complete my given task,” Khan said, the Admiral found the boy's trait of honesty a remarkable attribute and instantly admired the child for that reason alone, the boy quoted, “With 'transparency', Admiral.” 

“Now that we understand each other a little better, report to the sciences sector, John,” Admiral Marcus stood from the table, he slid a folder and PADD over in front of the boy's occupied hands, he said as the door slid open and an armed escort made their way to Khan's side, “Your new identity.” 

The setback was only temporary, minor in the least, thought Khan as he looked upon the new identification documents of John Harrison; he looked over at the armed guard whom stood at his side and watched his every move. Telling by the slight crackle and fuzz at the edges of his PADD's screen, Khan knew that he was being monitored, the visual and audio data was being transmitted to another source, he also knew why the guard seemed as if to meet his gaze and never once laid a hand upon him: somewhere in that human-like alloy and faux skin-resin were the remnants of his twice-late friend Doctor Mana. A personal ghost he had brought back to life had come to haunt him in his second life after sleep, after his treason had been recorded and his once-honorable name branded as that of a criminal, the hint of his humanity was nothing more than a filthy reminder of his physical weakness if compared to the life form he had once been always in the glorious blazes of battle and warfare. 

Khan lived with relative ease within a small Starfleet-issued apartment in which he was transferred from San Francisco to London Starfleet Headquarters, he stayed within the room occupied by a bed, a Starfleet computer, desk and a single chair, and an armed guard whom took care of all his living needs; the company was quite refreshing yet Khan knew he was a true prisoner whom was forbidden from contacting the outside world beyond his Starfleet cage. After figuring the day's routine, Khan clutched Mana's eye in his hands, having just hours before spent a minute decrypting the images and small snatches of audio still retained within the optical orb while his guard was away, he reflected the meaning of his existence. Khan watched helplessly as his android friend pleaded with his unconscious body years past, a lifetime ago, he could almost feel Mana's dry hands brush his shoulders and hear the flat quickness in his digital voice, as if out of desperation: '...Starfleet...Bastian...no choice...forced me...written protocol...core program...so sorry...Captain Khan...forgive me...' 

Images, blurry visions, and suddenly the unmistakable cutoff of feed altogether, Doctor Mana had been simulating sorrow just as Starfleet shut down his body; he knew one day that he would need to make a pilgrimage to the hidden Shiva Ra-III and regain the spotty mess that was his washed-out memory, the tattered bits that reminded Khan of his true lineage and proud history. 

“If I can't beat you...” Khan whispered to himself whilst staring out of his modest barred cubicle apartment, his fingers brushing against the impact-proof glass, he could not help but to marvel at the cold beauty of the world which surrounded and contrasted with his almost-insagnificant-seeming body, nothing in the world was softer than human flesh and he had the similar pliancy of the human organism, yet his mind was that of a being not at all human and he lacked the heart's tenderness, a ferocity only equaled by his anger bubbled over and gave way to determination, “...I'll destroy the weakness where it spawns.” 

With humanity's last taunt upon his lost legacy, Khan revised his first plan of escaping alongside his seventy-two crew mates and leaving Earth unscathed, he knew he should leave his mark and teach Humanity a lesson in ethics: 

If it is lost, return it. If it decides to right the wrongs, do not expect an apology. 

-

His body buzzed, Kirk's skin twitched and spasmed the longer he refused the biochemistry as it continued to invade his mind rudely, he knew he was growing sick and warmer the longer he denied his body's demand for penetration; his lower orifice ached, emptily clenching around the phantom-cock it knew it was missing, the nerves seeming as if to expand and wriggle beneath his tailbone in tragic anticipation of the surely-painful stretch and girth. The colors of the tiny pod blended as did the sensations of sickness and hesitation, as if the pit of his stomach were nothing more than an empty space for the swollen salvation nestled traitorously at Khan's navel, his spine shivered at the thought, his skin flushed as the painfully-clenched nether mouth gnawed with fleshed lips at the base of his spine, his innards twisted and contorted, the muscles of his body locking his mind in a cage of sweeter-than-sweet agony. The teflon cuffs bit bruises through his skin, which he felt were blunted teeth wrapped around his wrists and strangling his hands of circulation, yet all over his body, Kirk felt alive and suffocating in the livewire framework of his sweat-gleaming skin; before he could fully understand his needs imprinted in his genes, he clenched his teeth and masked his moan behind the feral growl he hissed through his reddened lips. He watched from beneath his brows, both weary and loathsome of the being pacing before his bound form, Kirk crouched atop the bed, his nether lips embarrassingly still leaking a thick sticky fluid and his back resting stiffly at the corner of the wall behind him, his heart now threatening to stop at the sight of the cuffs still almost-innocently clasped in Khan's hands. 

An unstoppable anger, an uncontainable rage finally tore through his entirety, Kirk threw his body forward and roared, he hollered out all his pent-up frustration, the suffering and sadism he endured beneath his 'Captain' released out in one long breath of air, his lungs vibrated from the strain as a slow, self-satisfied smile spread across Khan's lips and tainted Kirk's small triumph. Caught, yet still not at all beaten, Kirk bared his teeth in a habit he could no longer contain behind the fasçade of his Human side, the fire within him ignited as did the same heat which fueled his lust, the same inescapable lust which drew him toward Khan and at the same time repelled him for the danger which lay in his midst. The fate of his home-planet and entire species rested upon his trembling shoulders, he knew and understood the consequences of his sole failure were he to simply lay down and beg for the stubborn release that seemed so enticing within a desperately suicidal package; surely Khan was baiting him and trying to make him beg like had never done before, and yet the words lay at the edge of his lips and seeped out in the hints of defeated whimpers. 

“No-” he at once lurched forward, his spine in the slightest arching, Kirk's fists throbbed in twin relation to the slick wet emptiness pulsing within the modest folds of his legs, shutting his eyes and concentrating on evening out his breath, the urge once more away, anywhere his body could go as long as there was distance between what it wanted and the source of his absolute misery, his voice emmitting a strange tone, he whimpered pitifully, “Why him? Why Him?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the fic's been painfully Gaining words about a dozen each week, the last bit is completely Dialogue & outlined, but let's see if the next Star Trek film breathes new life into this fic.... :3 
> 
> Sorry if this means holding your breath a bit longer, but i want to put my All into the ending to make it more satisfying & Graphic as Hell than just 'Meh'-okay-ish. 
> 
> I promise that the next chapter will have fewer interruptions of plot, & the entire series will be fixed of errors.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m popping all sorts of cherries here: my first Star Trek fic, & my first alpha-omega fic, yay!
> 
> This all started as a series of dreams I have been having, the first was more of a scientific adventure (I have horrible Oral Fixation, & dreamed of giving a jawbreaker popsicle the ultimate blowjob from hell), the second is of a girl forced into marriage (15 & marrying a horrible, terrible man?), the third was of a four-legged couple I’ve only seen once in reality (my neighbor’s two male dogs who have eyes for no other, weird), & alas dreaming one night of these two going alpha-omega-verse fuck finale after coming back from the cinema seeing STID (until I woke up sleeping on the floor feeling some alien kind of filthy).  
> As for smut, well…I like/try hard to write things as good as I read them: Graphic, tasty & Sweet. Yet this fic stands up nice as Just a chapter to leave things to the imagination :3  
> i'm very sure there was a story in this, but i can't seem to find it at the moment... :P
> 
> Thank you for reading~!


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